


Secrets and Candlelight

by haveyouseenmyuser



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Cheeky mischevious Liam, Eleanor isn't annoying I promise, Harry's on the track team, High School AU, I'll update the tags as the story goes on :), M/M, Nerdy Louis, Niall Horan & Liam Payne Friendship, Slow Burn, Sophomore Louis, Tiny tiny tiny Louis that needs to be protected at all costs, Younger Brother Louis, Zayn Malik & Louis Tomlinson Friendship, basically an older Louis, but Louis is tiny and SMALLS, junior harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-09-06
Packaged: 2018-10-26 09:22:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 69,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10783986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haveyouseenmyuser/pseuds/haveyouseenmyuser
Summary: “Did I see you watching, last Friday? On the bleachers?”Louis nods, and then smiles at this boy, who has green eyes and is so so pretty, and nope, look at your sneakers, Louis.“Uh, yeah, I was just waiting for a ride.”“Cool. You clapped though – thanks.”Louis nods awkwardly, and cannot tell if he is blushing, or has managed to out-do himself and spontaneously burst into flames.“I’m Harry, by the way. I think I’m a year above you- you’re a sophomore, right?”Louis nods, and suffers a moment of agony during which he tries to calculate whether he should offer Harry a hand to shake, before deciding against it.“Yeah. Hi. Nice to meet you – I’m Louis Tomlinson.ORA Louis and Harry High School Au, Harry is an athlete and Louis is a big fan.





	1. Chapter 1

…

Louis scuffs his sneakers on the backs of the bleachers in front of him. White paint flakes away, and he does it again, reveling in simple destruction.

Of his school’s property.

He pulls a face at the realization, and then stops immediately, reflexively glancing around to check that no-one has seen. Which is stupid, because he’s pretty much alone. And has been for the last hour.

Sighing, Louis checks his watch, and then adjusts the art project on the bench next to him, which is the only reason that he didn’t get on his usual crowded school bus.

The problem with requesting a ride home with his older brother, is that he has to wait for his brother to be ready to leave, and with the introduction of the new football practice schedule, that seems to be getting later and later, this year.

Thankfully, it is only September, so still warm enough to sit out in the sunshine. And there are enough students training out on the sports field, either on the football team or the athletics squad, for Louis, ever curious, to not get too bored.

The athletics coach just opposite him, is waving his arms around, trying to coax a final push from the three boys who are coming around to complete their final lap. Only the one at the back seems to have left anything in reserve however, and he manages to overtake both of the front runners, brown hair streaming out behind him.

Louis claps twice, automatically, at the sight, and then immediately drops his hands, in case that wasn’t supposed to be done, in a training session. The boy who won looks over at him, and waves a tired hand in Louis’ direction in acknowledgement, before bending over, to try and get some oxygen back into his lungs. Louis watches for a moment, and then looks away, to the other end of the pitch, where the football team are finally finishing up.

Louis grins as he watches his brother slap the butt of every single squad member; the coach had apparently appointed his as this year’s captain in acknowledgement of his ‘unique team building skills’, and Louis is getting to witness it in action.

A number of team wave at Louis as they trudge past him towards the shower block, because they pretty much all know him- they’d been his unofficial bodyguard squadron when Louis had started as a freshman last year. Not that he’d needed it, really; Louis is pretty good at making friends and settling in. But he’d appreciated what his brother was doing nevertheless; and he had to admit, it had felt pretty cool, being able to sit with the super popular football team to eat lunch, in the first few awkward recess periods.

His brother comes walking over last, with his friend Niall, who grins and calls over to Louis.

“Hey mini Tommo- tell your brother to stop bullying us, will you?”

Liam laughs, and then tries to shove at Niall, who has already skipped two steps ahead in anticipation.

“Having high standards is not the same as bullying… Lou, I’ll be around ten minutes, okay?”

Louis shrugs.

“Of course. I’ll be here.”

…

Louis has long since become accustomed to being ‘the younger brother of Liam Tomlinson’. In a weird way, Louis is glad that he is so obviously different to Liam, because if they’d been at all similar, then the comparisons would have been constant, and Louis would have always been a not fully accurate version of his brother. At least, with things as they are, no-one can accuse him of trying to copy.

It was funny, in his first few weeks of high school, how some of his new teachers had been really positive about teaching another Tomlinson, and others had looked borderline terrified until Louis had demonstrated that he wasn’t planning on doing anything.

He had asked Liam about it, one time.

“Well, some teachers deserve my respect and attention, and some don’t earn it in the slightest.”

“Is it true that you printed off the state guidelines on teaching standards and stuck it to some of their doors?”

“Look, if those assholes aren’t open to some constructive criticism, then I fail to see how I’m supposed to be open to receiving education from them.”

…

It takes Liam closer to twenty minutes to shower, and when he jogs out of the shower block Louis can tell that he’s rushed like crazy, from the way that his hair is a mess. Louis leaps up, and scoops his art portfolio into his arms, taking the steps steadily to avoid tripping over and making a scene.

Liam apologizes with a wave of his hand, before hoisting his kit bag higher onto his shoulder, so he can remove some textbooks from underneath Louis’s elbow.

“Hey cutie- sorry for the delay. I swear to god, I will firebomb Principal Morely’s office if he doesn’t expand the shower block soon.”

…

Ever since Liam had passed his driving test, he’s always flung his Mini around the streets of San Francisco like the police are on his tail. Which hasn’t actually happened, to Louis’ knowledge. Yet.

But it means that he has to brace his leg slightly, as they veer around the corners on their route home, so he doesn’t slip sideways in his seat too far.

Liam is muttering underneath his breath, and glancing at the clock on the dash frequently. Louis thinks he might be missing something on TV. At another red light, the Mini whirrs to a standstill, and Liam clears his throat.

“Damn track team, you know?”

Louis doesn’t know, he just knows that Liam is always grumbling about the track team. Liam carries on almost immediately, apparently trying to clarify the problem.

“One of the boys took the last shower- the one that I’d already mentally reserved, just as I was getting my shower gel out of my bag. Dick.”

Louis wonders if it was the same boy that he saw win the long distance race.

“Maybe he didn’t see you?”

“Oh, I’m sure he did. Those morons are all the same – arrogant and entitled. Just because they performed well at the Championships like, two years ago. Talk about resting on your laurels.”

Louis nods, and if he’s learned anything, he knows not to ask about the Championships two years ago.

That’s when the incident happened.

Liam tuts, and then shrugs, because he knows that Louis doesn’t approve of the feud.

“Anyway, you’ll be pleased to hear that I didn’t retaliate- I almost put chili powder in his underwear.”

Louis laughs immediately, and then sobers. “Wait, why do you have chili powder in your sports bag?”

Liam glances at him, smirking cheekily, before accelerating smoothly away, as the light changes to green.

“For revenge purposes, obviously. I could have done that, or just hidden his underwear, so he’d have to travel home with it all hanging out.”

Louis’ mind automatically flashes to the idea of the tall boy without underwear on, and he clears his throat awkwardly, hoping against hope that he doesn’t start blushing.

“God, Liam, you’re a senior now. You’re the captain of the football team- you can’t keep pranking everyone.”

Liam grins over at him, a grin that seems to say I think you’ll find I can, and then squints suspiciously. Louis looks away hurriedly, but he knows that it is too late, he knew that he would start blushing. Liam snorts, and points a finger under his nose.

“Good lord Louis, you are such a baby gay- get a boyfriend, will you?”

Louis grunts, because yeah, a boyfriend would be nice. So he shrugs.

“Trying, Li, trying.”

“How- by smiling at boys from across the corridor? From underneath tables? Up your game, or you’ll get nowhere.”

“No, the smiling is just me being polite- you should try it sometime.”

“Whatever, don’t make me kick you out of the car.”

…

Louis had come out last year.

He’d always known, but had only recently felt brave enough to tell his big brother and parents when he’d been switching to high school. Because being out from the start felt a hell of a lot easier that having to announce it halfway through.

The whole thing had been pretty anti-climactic, really. Louis’ stomach had been churning with nerves for the whole week beforehand, but his dad had simply raised his eyebrows, and nodded. And then his mom had smiled at him, and said “thank you for telling us. We love you.”

And Liam had just leaned across to high-five him, before pulling him into a hug and saying “Well done; we know you had been worrying about that for a while.”

And that had been that.

It turns out that his family had always known too.

…

The next Monday, Louis gets another ride in with Liam, because he’s got a whole heap of textbooks and folders to cart in, and also because he is running slightly late and hopes to trust to Liam’s crazy driving to get him to class on time.

What he doesn’t bank on is Liam taking a detour to pick up Niall, so that means they’re late anyway.

So this is Louis, running down an almost empty hallway, and even though there are still a few other students lingering next to the lockers, Louis mentally categorizes them as the students who don’t care about their education, and he does.

Because he has got too many folders, he has to try and awkwardly press them up against the adjoining lockers to his with his body, so he can fumble at his lock with both hands.

One of his textbooks falls to the floor, but he can cope with that, it is only his history folder that he doesn’t want to fall, because the closing mechanism is already faulty on that. And if it goes then he’ll have to reorder all of his notes, and-

Oh shit, it’s slipping.

“Hey, whoa, do you need a hand?”

Before Louis can yell yes, dear god, my kingdom for a hand, a hand appears, and removes his history folder and a couple of the books underneath. That makes the whole pile more manageable, and Louis can finally get his locker open, and dump some of the books.

The hand that is holding his folder belongs to the boy from the track team.

The one Louis accidentally thought about without underwear on (entirely his brother’s fault).

“Oh, um, thanks, here, let me…”

The boy lets Louis retrieve his history folder, and then Louis has to concentrate on putting it into his locker, which is a relief because he knows he is blushing.

“Umm. Thanks.”

He’s already said that, dammit.

“Did I see you watching, last Friday? On the bleachers?”

Louis nods, and then smiles at this boy, who has green eyes and is so so pretty, and nope, look at your sneakers, Louis.

“Uh, yeah, I was just waiting for a ride.”

“Cool. You clapped though – thanks.”

Louis nods awkwardly, and cannot tell if he is blushing, or has managed to out-do himself and spontaneously burst into flames.

“I’m Harry, by the way. I think I’m a year above you- you’re a sophomore, right?”

Louis nods, and suffers a moment of agony during which he tries to calculate whether he should offer Harry a hand to shake, before deciding against it.

“Yeah. Hi. Nice to meet you – I’m Louis Tomlinson.”

Okay, why the need to say his last name? This isn’t a business meeting. Harry smiles at him, and then repeats it back to him.

“Louis Tomlinson. Hello. My last name is Styles.”

Louis nods some more, and he could have sworn he was in a rush, a few moments ago, where did he need to be again?

“Cool. Um. Do you like your name?”

What? What? How is that making conversation? Do you like your name? Louis needs a passing bus to throw himself under now.

Before Harry can respond to Louis’ incisive interview technique, a different sort of distraction appears.

“Lou Bear! Thought you were panicking about being late, you made me drop you off at the door before parking, and now I find you chit chatting with…”

Liam comes up behind him, and slings his arm around Louis’ shoulders, squeezing once, before looking over at Harry, who seems to wilt slightly, at eye-contact.

“…with someone from the track team, oh hello. Not got any showers that you need to be stealing from underneath someone’s nose?”

Louis refrains from jabbing at his older brother’s ribs with his elbow, and gestures vaguely at Harry.

“Liam, this is Harry. He was just helping me with my books, they were going to fall. And Harry, this is Liam.”

Harry nods, and looks away, eyes somehow less bright, than before.

“Yeah, I know. Hi. I said sorry about the shower thing, okay? And I don’t really see why you are butting in on our conversation; not everything in this school is about you.”

Louis winces, even as Liam clears his throat, all false brightness.

“Well no, correct, the boring stuff isn’t, but when you are talking to my little brother, then yes, yes it does become about me.”

Oh lord. Harry glances once at Louis, and then back at Liam, and then lets his eyes widen slightly in recognition, before they dull back down again.

“Oh, right. Sure. Louis Tomlinson. I didn’t think, I just thought-”

Liam snorts, and answers sarcastically, and Louis hates it when he sees his brother go all sarcastic.

“What, you just thought it was a coincidence? Obviously we’re brothers – we’re hardly going to be married, are we?”

Harry nods a couple of times, clearly to himself, and then glances at Louis, once.

“Well, okay- it was nice to meet you.”

Louis nods weakly, and manages to mumble a yeah, you too, but Harry is unlikely to hear it, he’s already striding off down the corridor on long legs.

“Liam- was that necessary?”

Liam shrugs, and pets at Louis’ face, once.

“Um, yes, he was distracting you from your education, Louis; you do realize that you are now five minutes late?”

Shit. Okay. Louis takes a deep breath to gather himself, and then frowns up at Liam.

“We need to talk about your crappy friendship forming skills at some point, Liam. Remind me tonight.”

As Louis turns to go he receives a poke in the butt from Liam’s boot, and flips him off over his shoulder.

“Whatever Lou- I’m not wasting any of my friendship forming skills on someone from the track team; being my friend is a goddamn honor and privilege, okay?”

Liam’s voice gets louder and louder as Louis walks away, and he shakes his head once, before answering with “Get to class, Liam! It’s not going to come to you.”

Louis hears Liam announce ‘Well it should!’ before he cracks up laughing, and Louis can’t help but smile slightly.

His brother’s laugh always does that to him.

…

 


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is an AU story. Everything is a lie.
> 
> Onwards;

It’s a distracted day.

His art teacher is all over his ass, because Louis never has enough work in his portfolio. And that is because he didn’t sign up to sell his soul to art, and so does a sensible amount over the weekend, but no more. Unfortunately a sensible amount does not seem to equate to an acceptable amount.

It isn’t as though he even wants to be an artist, he has no idea what he is doing taking it as an elective.

He spends lots of time that day thinking about what Liam had said. The stuff about finding himself a boyfriend. That could be a thing that he does.

(This is, of course, all unrelated to the fact that Harry Styles has the prettiest eyes that he’s ever seen.)

So therefore he needs to improve his flirting technique.

He could have even tried to flirt with Harry, had not Liam turned up and done the conversational equivalent of throwing a bucket of cold water over him.

Louis wonders if he’ll see Harry during recess.

…

He doesn’t.

He sees lots of boys with brown hair, and lots of tall boys, and lots of boys with long hair, and lots of boys wearing the school’s track kit, but none of them are the right combination.

Louis realizes what he is doing after a solid five minutes of staring off into space in the food hall, and refocuses on his stirfry, which is tepid with limp vegetables and generally unappealing.

The student opposite him finishes, and leaves, and then a couple of girls who he doesn’t speak to very often from his Math class come and stand opposite him.

“Hey Louis… did you do that assignment?”

Louis nods, because the assignment had been hard and he’d had to spend a solid couple of hours on it before the numbers had started making sense to her. They exchange glances, and then one of them, Perrie, tilts her head towards him.

“Do you think you could not mention that you finished it? Because nearly everyone in the class couldn’t do it, and we were hoping to all go in together and say that it was too hard. You know, a united front? That way we can’t all get into trouble.”

Louis pokes at his food vaguely, stalling for time.

“Umm, I don’t really like lying.”

Another girl, Jade, pipes up.

“Oh, but you don’t have to lie. Just keep quiet. Everyone else will do the talking.”

Louis frowns, because he’d worked hard on that assignment, but then shrugs.

“Yeah, okay. I guess.”

“Cool – oh, you aren’t going to eat that chocolate pudding are you? It looks disgusting…”

…

The whole class gets a detention, and have to miss the first half of their scheduled study period after that class, to stay behind and be re-taught.

Louis thinks about saying something, about his neatly completed set of questions, but he thinks he can feel the rest of the class’ eyes boring into the back of his head, and so leaves it.

The teacher, Mrs MacKenzie, pauses in front of Louis’ desk, with eyebrows raised in surprise, and Louis has to shrug, and look away.

“Had too much art to do; sorry Mrs Mac.”

Mrs MacKenzie tuts under her breath.

“Priorities, Louis.”

Louis thinks he can hear the accusatory surname, silently tagged on to the end.

Louis Tomlinson.

…

“You’re too nice, Louis, that’s the problem. You should have just flipped off the entire class, and then shoved your assignment up that witch’s nose- she can’t teach, no wonder everyone else couldn’t do it.”

Louis tilts his head back to rest on the couch, and holds a hand out passively, until Liam snorts, and places the bag of chips in his grasp.

“Want me to chew them for you?”

“Eww, no… What would you have done Li?”

Liam sighs, and reaches up to rearrange his hair.

“Well, I’d probably have been either Perrie or Jade, trying to organise a small revolution, so I’m not the best person to ask.”

Louis grunts slightly, and picks up a couple of chips, chewing quickly.

“I don’t know how we are related.”

“You got the smart gene. I got the smart ass gene. The two aren’t that dissimilar. Evolution, all that shit. Science. Are you passing the chips back or are you planning to elope with them?”

Louis sends them back, and sighs.

“I’ll just change the date on the piece, I’m not going to write the full thing out again.”

Liam looks at him as if to say duh, and then changes the television channel.

“Never anything on… it’s like the schedulers want me to study.”

Louis shrugs, and then asks the question that has been playing on his mind for most of the day.

“Do you have anything in particular against Harry? Or was that just the standard hate that you hand out to all of the track team?”

Liam blinks, and then frowns at him.

“You mean apart from the fact that he took my shower the other day? Not particularly. Why?”

Louis shrugs, pretending that this particular music video is really interesting.

“No reason. Just thought… that it was a lot of hate to hand out, to someone who was just trying to be helpful.”

“Yeah? Well he gave back just as good, you saw. It’s just school law Louis; track team hate the football team, football team hate the track team. It’s probably written into our founding charter or whatever.”

Louis nods, as if that makes any sense at all, and then re-clarifies, as if he’ll get an answer that is more acceptable, the second time around.

“So no specific reason to dislike Harry?”

Liam huffs, and then stands up abruptly, brushing stray chip crumbs away from him.

“I said no, didn’t I? What’s with the stuck record routine? Anyway, I’m in charge of dinner tonight; Mom said she wouldn’t be back until later. Any requests?”

…

Louis gets the school bus in the next day, because sometimes he likes to have a bit of headspace before school, and driving in with Liam is never headspace.

So he has his earphones in, listening to his favourite bands, and has a textbook open in front of him, in the universal signal for test today – last chance to study. Louis waves, or smiles, at most of the people who get on the bus, and gets the usual grins in return, but no-one bothers him.

Until Perrie from his Math class sits down next to him. Which is weird, because Perrie never sits down next to him.

“Oh, um, hey-”

Perrie always speaks too quickly, Louis thinks, and chews rapidly at his gum.

“Just wanted to say thanks for not telling the teacher that you’d done the assignment yesterday – we’d have probably all gotten a worst punishment if you’d shown that it could be completed.”

Louis frowns, and then shrugs.

“It’s um, yeah. I probably won’t do it again though; I felt a bit stupid, sitting a detention for something that I hadn’t done.”

Perrie smiles, and makes a little ugh noise, before clutching at her chest dramatically.

“Welcome to my world, I get detentions all the time for things that I hadn’t done.”

Louis frowns slightly, because he’s pretty sure that he and Perrie are not talking about the same thing here, but then shrugs.

“Well. It’s done now. Thanks for, uh, saying thanks.”

Perrie nods, and then reaches out for one of Louis’ earphones suddenly, tugging it out of his ear.

“What are you listening to? Can I share?”

Startled, Louis can’t line his words up quick enough, and Perrie seems to take his silence as agreement, and pops the earphone up to her ear.

“Ooh, drums.”

Louis frowns.

“Uh, yeah, it’s a random playlist, of bands that I like. They all… I like drums, so. Drums and guitars.”

Perrie nods, and then shrugs.

“It’s different.”

Yeah, it probably is, Louis decides. Perrie has a tendency to announce that Katy Perry is her queen, at random intervals during the day, and his current playlist contains no Katy Perry.

It is a ten minutes journey into school from here. Louis hopes nothing embarrassing appears on his track list in that time.

Perrie sits there, bobbing up and down in a rhythm slightly mismatched to the pace of the song, and Louis returns to his textbook, seeing nothing.

So much for head space.

…

Their English teacher sets a group project as a two week long assignment, which involves a presentation at the end. It’s something of a tragedy, because Louis really doesn’t like The Catcher in the Rye, and having to do character exploration doesn’t appeal. Even though the teacher gives his group the character of Phoebe, which could have been worse.

And the positive, of course, is that some of Louis’ best friends are in this class. And they get to pick their own groups.

Zayn comes zooming over to Louis’ side immediately, and is closely followed by James, who silently raises his eyebrows until Louis pats the seat next to him, and says ‘of course dude.’ James grins at him as he sits down, and then Zayn is twisting around in his seat, waving his hand at Eleanor, who is preoccupied with trying to tuck her chair neatly underneath her desk, where the legs have gotten tangled.

“Eleanor- you joining?”

Eleanor abandons her mission, and steps backwards, into the side of Mr Lee, and then rebounds forward, pirouetting once to apologize, and then sitting at their group table with a look in her eyes that says please no-one mention the fact that I just reversed into our teacher.

Louis shrugs, and then says “Okay, awesome. Good team.”

Zayn nods, and sets about nosing his way through Louis’ folder, which is something that he does.

“Definitely, cause I bet you’ve already made notes on the Phoebe girl, haven’t you? As one of your ‘mental exercises’?”

James clears his throat.

“Also, Louis, could you do most of the talking? I don’t like doing it. I’ll provide a backing beat, if you want.”

“Yeah, but I’m not doing all of it- and Z, I haven’t made notes already, I don’t even really like this book…”

Zayn raises his eyebrows at Louis, and then slides the folder over to Eleanor, who inspects the page closely.

“Eleanor, what does this look like to you?”

“Like… a mind-map on the character of Phoebe. Excellent. Well done Louis.”

“Okay, that was just part of my introductory notes on the book, to help me get a feel for the characters… we can’t base the whole project on one mind-map!”

James snorts next to him, and drags the folder over.

“No, but it’s a start- which one is Phoebe again, is it the girl that he wants to make out with?”

“No, his little sister.”

“Oh- ew, okay, that was fucked up.”

…

Louis spends his afternoon in the school’s library.

The four of them start together, with Eleanor trawling through the text for quotes, James carefully copying down Louis’ original mind-map into an electronic format so it can be included in their presentation, and Louis and Zayn discussing whether Phoebe is genuinely adorable in real life, or whether Holden’s narrative filter is giving the reader a misplaced sense of reality.

Or at least, that is what Louis is trying to discuss. Zayn keeps getting distracted by the concept of set design for their presentation.

When the final bell goes, all three of them start packing up.

“Louis- you not coming?”

“Nah; Liam has got training tonight, so I’ll get a ride with him later. I think I’ll stay and do some research on similar characters to Phoebe in other novels- you know, the innocence provider. I mean, we don’t necessarily have to include it in the presentation, but I thought having some kind of contrast-”

Eleanor rests a hand on Louis’s shoulder, silencing him.

“Okay, Louis, sounds like your kind of thing. Have fun, yeah? Thanks for getting us organized.”

Zayn nods, and thumbs up at him.

“Yeah, and I’ll do some research about those confetti canons I was telling you about- the ones that you twist and pop? Added impact, you know?”

Sometimes Louis really can’t tell when Zayn is joking.

“Whatever you guys- bye. See you tomorrow.”

…

After twenty minutes, Louis gets a message from James.

Hey, forgot to say- check this band out, I think you’d like them.

Louis clicks on the link, and gets directed to a playlist. From the opening chords, he can tell that he probably will like them- him and James share pretty much the same music taste.

Smiling, Louis sits back from his books, and sets about transferring the songs over to his account, so he can absorb the music slowly.

The library has the usual handful of students here, and Louis likes being here after school. The bookshelves create cornered off spaces, which aren’t private, but are separate, and Louis likes the space.

The contrast between the calmness of the library, and the noise coming out of his earphones appeals to Louis as well. He taps out a quick rhythm on the edge of the table, smiling to himself for a moment.

Okay, back to work.

Louis flips forward a couple of pages, and then jumps, when someone taps on the table, opposite him.

Harry is standing there, with a couple of books under one arm, and a pen in his other hand, which is clearly what he used to gets Louis’ attention. He must have just walked around the corner a second after Louis went back to his book, and Louis offers up a silent thank you to whoever might be listening, for the fact that Harry decided to stop.

Louis realizes that he is staring, mute, and tugs his earphones out.

“Hi.”

“Hey- thought I’d say hello.”

Louis nods, because mission accomplished, but Harry is still standing there, like he wants more than a hello. Louis struggles for something to say that isn’t so, do you like your name?

“No training?”

Harry shrugs, indicating at the books in his arm.

“I’ve got some assignments to do. Coach will be mad, probably, but I’m trying to improve my scores, this year. I’ll have to go to Friday training though- miss two and you’re off the team.”

Louis nods, tilting his head sideways to try and read the spines, like a weirdo.

“Science, huh?”

“Yeah, blah- I hate it. What are you doing?”

Louis holds up the course book, and shrugs.

“Group presentation on character analysis.”

Harry pulls a face, and then looks around the library.

“Ugh, that book… where’s your group? When do you have to present?”

“Oh, we only got set it today. I’m just doing some background research while I wait for Liam.”

Louis half swallows his brother’s name, but there is no avoiding it. Thankfully Harry latches on to the first bit of the sentence.

“Background research? Are you serious?”

Louis shrugs, and grins.

“I’m a geek.”

Harry wrinkles his nose, and smirks at him, even as Louis has an inner moment of glee, at making Harry smile.

“Clearly.”

It is said warmly, and Louis doesn’t mind being teased at all.

And then Harry is still standing there.

“Sorry about my brother, the other day, by the way.”

Harry twists his mouth slightly, and looks away.

“Doesn’t matter. I guess you have to do a lot of apologizing for your brother.”

Louis at his notes blankly for a moment, and thinks about lying, just for the sake of an easy conversation.

But doesn’t.

“Not really- he’s not that bad.”

When Louis looks back at Harry, he’s biting at his lip slightly, and shrugs, looking back at his textbooks in what looks like false distraction, to Louis’ eyes.

“Mmm. Okay, well, I’d best get some work done.”

Louis nods, trying not to show his disappointment in his smile.

“Cool, yeah, me too. Thanks for saying hi, though.”

What? Louis tries to pretend that he hasn’t just said something really weird, but Harry performs a small joking curtsey, and smiles quietly.

“Bye, Louis.”

Louis offers up a vague wave, but Harry is already walking away.

And Louis is watching him go.

…

 


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is an AU fic. Everything is a lie.
> 
> (dear everyone who wants to know about posting schedules; I don’t have one. What I do have, however, is a plan to post a part at least once every couple of days. So because today is Saturday, there will definitely be one up by Wednesday. Or earlier. Who knows. I’m a mystery etc.)
> 
> Ahem-

**Chapter Three**

That Friday, Louis inspects the contents of his locker with appraising eyes.

There’s his Spanish course-book, that he should probably take, and his sketch pad, and then that History folder which is still on the verge of breaking, and probably that library book he borrowed, on character archetypes, and maybe his Chem folder for pre-emptive revision…

Basically, he can’t possibly catch the school bus with all of this vital stuff that he has to take home.

He’ll get a ride with Liam.

And maybe go sit on the bleachers, to pass the time.

…

It’s sunny again. Louis immediately feels about five years younger, after only a minute of sitting in the sunshine. Because the smells of cut grass combined with the warm metal of the bleachers frames are reminding him of little league, and running around parks like he was being chased by dinosaurs.

Liam used to run after him, screaming and throwing water balloons and generally putting the most delicious fear of god into Louis.

And Liam used to come watch his Saturday baseball games, before he grew out of that phase, and cheer, just behind the batter as Louis was trying to pitch accurately.

His brother is his brother. And Louis wouldn’t change anything about him.

The football team are practicing in the middle of the pitch. Liam has them in two teams, one doing endurance training, led by Niall, and the other group doing running stuff, led by Liam. Or at least, that’s what it looks like. Louis' never very sure what footballers do, other than rock up to games and pull off some impressive shit.

A random gust of wind catches his textbooks pages, and Louis presses a quick hand down to prevent losing his place. He tries to refocus.

It’s a lie, of course. If he was actually trying to study then he’d be in the library, like any sane person.

Instead he is pretending to study, while watching the track team from beneath lowered eyelids.

Louis worries that this is what a creeper would do.

In fact it certainly is, although Louis thinks that there is maybe a pretty vague line between being a creeper, and just trying to demonstrate interest, in the most non-embarrassing way he can think off.

Besides, it is all about how the other person reacts, isn’t it?

Harry had smiled, and waved at him, when he’d jogged onto the track. Which was totally cool and Louis was totally chill about the whole thing, and had just managed to wave back and not cartwheel off stage left.

Harry had done some smaller sprint distances, and then had stood with his hands on his hips, watching the girls on the team complete a longer distance race. For the final couple of laps a blonde girl had come over to him, and they’d both rested an arm out on each other’s shoulders, and they stretched out their muscles by standing on one leg. Harry’s sneaker was pressed up against his red shorts, and nope, Louis, you are studying, not watching a stranger’s butt.

He glances down at his notes, but only manages about half a second before looking up again. Just at that moment the blonde girl looks over his shoulder, towards Louis, and oh crap, okay, now he is properly going to stare at his textbook, and not acknowledge the external universe for at least the length of three songs.

A song and a half long, and he is already cursing Nick, because this band seem to write really long songs.

There is someone coming up the bleachers. And Louis is caught between looking up, because maybe, and staring blankly at his textbook, because he made a commitment, here.

As a compromise, he lets himself look up when it sounds like the footsteps are only a couple of rows away, because any normal person would look up at that point, he decides.

Harry is standing there, squinting up at him, because the sun is over Louis’ shoulder, and Louis is grateful for the advantage.

“Hi- coach gives us oranges, half way through training. Um, and Cara thought you might want one?”

Louis blinks, and then looks at the blonde girl, who is still down on the pitch, blatantly watching the interaction. After a moment, Louis focuses on the orange, which Harry’s fingers have curled awkwardly around.

“Oh, um, cool- thanks! I like peeling things.”

Okay, clearly interacting with Harry makes his mouth say ridiculous things. Harry scrunches up his nose, as if to say what, and then smiles, as Louis represses the urge to make a pun about things being a-peel-ing.

“Wow, okay, well; here.”

Harry tosses it over, and Louis manages to catch the orange without dropping his book, which he marks down as a massive success.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Um. Anyway, I should go- my race is next.”

Louis nods, and then gives a thumbs up. Harry replies in kind, and then starts jogging down the steps towards the pitch. Halfway down, Louis decides that he hasn’t said enough.

“Break a leg!”

Harry laughs, and when he gets to the bottom calls back up to Louis.

“That’s actors, Louis- runners don’t really want to break their legs.”

Louis shrugs, because duh, obviously, and then waves the orange over his head vaguely.

“Okay, cool, I knew that. Break nothing!”

Harry smiles, and shakes his head, turning away, and looking over towards Cara, who seems to be watching with her head tilted to one side, as he stretches. Another thought strikes Louis.

“Except maybe a track record – break one of them!”

Harry properly laughs at that point, this crazy ass giggle that Louis immediately wants to hear again. He then turns, and points, saying “you’re distracting me”, before spinning on his heel again.

Louis decides that it is a compliment.

…

The car journey isn’t quiet, because Liam has given Niall a ride too, and so the stereo is cranked right up and the two of them are performing sitting body rolls whilst attempting to harmonise to Beyonce.

Louis jiggles around in the back seat, eye closed and hands in the air, attempting to participate. Niall catches his eye in the rear view mirror and grins widely, as they turn the corner to his street.

“Great moves Louis- Li, why haven’t we got little Tommo on the team? We could use that agility”

Liam laughs, and snakes a hand back behind him, to grab at Louis' knee and squeeze, as Louis yelps in surprise.

“Cause this one thinks that football is for losers, despite coming to watch us every Friday!”

“Liam, I never said that, Niall, don’t listen to him, I think everyone that isn’t on the football team is a loser, so-”

Niall laughs at that, and then unclicks his seat belt, as Liam’s Mini pulls up outside his house. He spins around in his seat, and ruffles at Louis' hair, ignoring his cry of protest.

“I’m messing with you Lou-bear; just don’t join the track team, you’d break your brother’s heart.”

“Niall, get out of my car, I have a couch waiting for me at home.”

Niall flips Liam off extravagantly, and then opens the door, stepping out easily.

“Thanks for the ride, Tommo’s!”

 

Louis grins out of the window, because he’s in a good mood and it is the weekend and the sun is still shining. Niall reminds him a lot of Zayn, in the fact that neither of them really seem to give a shit about appearing sensible or sane, to the wider public.

The thought of Zayn means that Louis is reaching for his phone, checking whether he actually remembered to take that textbook home.

After a moment Louis hears Liam snort, from up front, and glances forward, trying to read his expression in the mirror.

“What?”

Liam scrunches up his face, and then glances up at him, sticking out his tongue.

“Just imagining you trying out for the track team. What discipline will it be?”

Louis smirks, and then shrugs, mumbling “how dare you doubt my high jump ambitions?”

Liam laughs, and then sobers instantly.

“I was thinking long-jump, but yeah, your tiny little legs can help you achieve orbit, no problem.”

Louis goes back to his phone, smiling.

“Whatever – you know they’ll never let me in. A constant regret of mine.”

It’s meant to be a joke, it is obviously a joke, but Liam growls, nevertheless.

“The track team will do whatever I tell them to do, the bunch of morons. You want to be on that team Louis, I will get you on that team running every leg of the damn relay if you want it.”

Louis can’t help the face that he pulls.

“Liam, I was joking, are you crazy?”

Liam juts out his chin in determination.

“Possibly. I don’t know. I just don’t like them, okay?”

Louis frowns back at his phone, because he’s suddenly bored of Liam’s favourite theme.

“Yeah, I know. I get it.”

Louis thinks that he can feel Liam looking at him in the rear view mirror, but he doesn’t care.

…

That night he does some investigation.

Louis doesn’t really like Facebook – he has an account, but rarely updates it. And his profile picture is from nearly a year ago, and Louis really needs to change it sometime, because he looks really chubby cheeked on it. Whereas now he thinks he looks a lot more like the sort of person that he is going to be for the rest of his life.

But that isn’t what he is on here for, so Louis puts that thought to the back of his mind.

Instead he changes the date parameters, to the approximate times of that National Championship, two years ago. The one that Liam came back from in a complete funk, and it took him a couple of months to get out of it. And now, Louis really wants to try and figure out exactly what happened. For reasons.

Louis can vaguely remember how excited Liam had been to go-  he’d been in the back of the car as his dad had driven Liam to the school, ready to get on the bus with everyone else. The old football coach, Mr Riley, had greeted him with a hug, before having a quick word with his dad, no doubt solemnly swearing that he’d keep an eye on the hyper-excited Liam for the whole week.

It was all happening in one place, the athletics meet and the football game. Louis can remember how Principal Morley kept referring to it in his welcome speech to Louis' class at the start of last year. His pride at having not one, but two, teams, through to the highest level of competition, the previous year.

Louis frowns, as he starts scrolling pictures. Most of the photos are of Liam and Niall, who were two of the few sophomores who had been selected from the football team to go. Liam is beaming wide in every single one, and spectacularly cross-eyed in most.

There’s a few of Liam with the rest of the team, posing in increasingly ridiculous stances. And a couple of candid ones, of what looks like Liam in the middle of telling a story, while a group of the older players, some of whom Louis can remember from last year, crack up around him.

There’s loads of the team in their game mode, uniforms brightly colored and sweat on their foreheads.

And then there are some larger group ones, where the track team have been incorporated too- the two coaches must have conspired to get them together. Louis has to zoom in, to find Liam, but sure enough, there he is, smiling wide with an arm wrapped around the shoulders of one of the track girls. He peers at her face for a moment, but decides that she must have been in the year above Liam, because he barely recognizes her face.

Louis hovers the cursor over her, and then grunts to himself, because he does recognize the name – Sarah Hyland. She would have been one of the better athletes on the team, he sees that name engraved on various trophies around the corridors of the school.

Whatever, Liam has never mentioned her, so she can’t be that important.

Louis is about to click on to the next photo, when something catches his eye, and he’s zooming back on the photo.

Harry is there.

Standing off to the edge of the group, looking like he doesn’t really know what to do with himself, but that is definitely Harry, with hair a couple of inches shorter than it currently is. Louis hovers over his face, but he hasn’t been tagged.

Louis frowns, because this would have been the year when Harry was a freshman, and Louis is pretty sure that it was unheard of for a freshman to represent their school at this level.

But then again, Louis barely knows anything about track and field. Maybe this sort of thing goes on all the time.

Louis rubs his hands over his face, and sits back from his laptop, considering whether to go back through all of the photos and see if he can see Harry in any other shots. But then he decides that what he is currently doing is borderline crazy, and he doesn’t want to tip the balance.

If he was that desperate to know, he could just ask Liam, rather than trying to Sherlock the information together. Louis is sure that he’d get a straight answer out of his brother, if he was persistent enough.

But then he’d have to explain why he wanted a straight answer, and the phrase well, Harry Styles is interesting to me doesn’t seem to want to trip off his tongue, just yet.

Besides, Liam had said that he didn’t have any specific reason to dislike Harry.

And he wouldn’t lie, would he?

…

That night, Louis is turning over the problem in his head.

(Problem? Oh, it’s a problem now, is it? Great.)

Louis decides that he is just curious. That’s what he’ll call it. Because Liam refers to that Championship game a lot, and always sounds like he has bitter memories. Which contrasts so sharply with the photographs that Louis has seen it seems ridiculous. So of course he is curious.

The two teams certainly hadn’t looked like they’d hated each other, in that group photo. Despite what Liam says.

Louis sure as hell can’t ask Harry; he isn’t sure of the exact distance between the question ‘do you like oranges?’ to ‘explain to me why my brother has a deep simmering hatred of all the track team?’ but he thinks that it isn’t a leap that can be made in one conversation.

And everyone else who was there has either left school, or is someone Louis doesn’t speak to at all.

Unless… Louis turns over, rearranging his pillow, aware that sleep isn’t coming any time soon.

He supposes that he does speak to Niall pretty often.

But Liam is always there.

Louis doesn’t know why he is suddenly needing to hide things from Liam.

But there it is.

 


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello! This is an AU story
> 
> Thank you for reading :)

Chapter Four

The next week passes smoothly.

Louis tries, a couple of times, to see if he can find a way to be alone with Niall, but Niall is Liam’s best friend, so even if Louis does see Niall by himself, occasionally, he is never sure how far away Liam is.

Equally, Louis doesn’t know how to steer a casual conversation with his brother’s friend towards a detailed recap of a competition that happened two years ago.

And finally, even if he asks Niall not to mention the conversation to Liam, he knows that it’ll be the first thing Niall mentions to Liam, the next time he sees him. That’s just how their friendship works.

By Wednesday, Louis tries to drop the line of thought. Because it doesn’t matter. And if there was anything Louis needed to know, Liam would tell him.

James snaps his fingers in front of Louis' eyes, from across the lunch table.

“Hey- are you with me?”

Louis blinks, and then nods, looking down at the sandwich in his hands, that he has been holding motionless for what is probably an embarrassing length of time.

“Yeah, sorry bro... just a good sandwich, you know?”

James peers at it for a moment, as if checking to see what ingredient could have brought on an apparent religious experience in Louis, and then shrugs.

“Ok, whatever. But yeah, Eleanor said to check whether we should do a final meet up in the library, before the presentation? Just to have a last run through?”

Louis nods, turning over his planner that is on the table next to him to check his schedule for the day.

“Uh… yeah, I’ve got a study period at the end of the day, if everyone else is free.”

James gives him a crooked smile, and raises his eyebrows at him, saying “Yeah, Louis, we all are, that’s what I was just saying. Probably why Eleanor suggested it- I’m sure she’s got all of our free time written down somewhere.”

Louis takes a bite of his sandwich, annoyed that his inattention has been spotted so easily.

“Oh, right. Well yeah, cool – it’d be good to get that same table in the library; the one with the computer?”

James shrugs, and then frowns at him, looking concerned.

“Course. Hey, though, um, are you okay? You’ve seemed a little out of it, these past couple of days.”

Damn it. Louis' annoyed with himself, because if James has spotted a shift in his mood, it means that he’s been letting himself think too much about something that is basically a pointless worry. He shakes his head, and then tells himself to smile brightly, because this weird feud thing his brother has is the stupidest thing to get concerned over.

“Yeah, no, I’m fine. Just trying to do too much art at the moment – not getting enough sleep.”

James grunts, and then goes back his food, sliding his plate to one side and pulling his yogurt towards him.

“You should drop that; it’s only an elective, but you are always moaning about it.”

Louis tips his head to one side, because whilst James is correct, he doesn’t just  _ give up on things _ .

“Whatever- how have you eaten your food so quickly?”

…

They do manage to get the same table, much to Louis' satisfaction.

Their presentation has been ready for a couple of days, and Louis doesn’t really need the practice for his sections. But he knows that Eleanor and James aren’t as confident, when it comes to public speaking, and so is happy to run through it a few times. Each of them mutters their sections under their breath, so as not to disturb anyone else in the library.

After half an hour, all of them can say their bits without relying on any notes, and they’ve done a bit of discussion about how to respond to possible audience questions. Louis thinks they’re good to go.

Zayn leans forward, resting his elbows on the table.

“Now, the most important stuff – set design.”

Louis snorts, even as Eleanor shakes her head and pushes at the side of Zayn’s face vaguely.

“No, Zayn, I swear to god.”

Zayn pouts at all of them, and sits back in his seat, folding his arms and exaggerating a frown.

“God, if you won’t let me do a costume change, you guys could at least support one of my dreams.”

Louis laughs at him, and flips him off, before setting about returning his English notes to the folder.

“I think we’re good guys, right? Any last minute questions or things like that?”

James nods, stretching his arms above his head.

“Yeah- can we email the completed presentation to everyone? So I can take another look tonight?”

Eleanor immediately stretches for the computer, nodding.

“Yeah, good idea- what address should I put in for you James?”

James reels off a gmail account, and they sit in silence for a moment, as Eleanor’s fingers click over the keyboard. And then Zayn clears his throat, and when Louis looks over at him Zayn is looking over Louis' shoulder.

“I have a question- Louis, do you owe anyone in the track team money? Because that boy keeps- no don’t look!”

The warning comes too late, because Louis, unthinking, has already whipped around in his seat, just to catch sight of Harry refocusing on the book in front of him.

Louis automatically turns back quickly in his seat, and shrugs.

“No. That’s just, um. He’s called Harry. I’ve spoken to him a couple of times. I don’t owe him money.”

Zayn pulls a face, to say  _ yeah, I figured _ , and then says “Well, he’s super interested in the back of your head.”

Eleanor mumbles “Ooh, excitement”, and half raises herself out of her seat, in order to try and get a better look at Harry. James reads Louis' mind, thankfully, and places a hand on top of Eleanor’s head, encouraging her back down. Louis clears his throat, trying to move the conversation on.

“Pretty sure that you’re just imagining things Zayn… anyway, we’re done here, no? Go home, you guys.”

Zayn stands up, giving Louis a look.

“Lucky for you, my need to be in pyjamas outweighs my need to figure out why you are suddenly blushing bright red… we’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

Louis nods, mutely, and then busies himself with his history folder, so the progression of his blush can’t be tracked in any great detail. James squeezes at his shoulder as he leaves, and Eleanor taps him on the head, before leaning down to his ear, to whisper “You can owe  _ me _ money, if you like.”

Louis grins, and waves her away.

“Get lost you guys, or I’ll make you help with my History assignment.”

Eleanor whispers  _ ew _ , and then Louis is alone.

He is not going to turn around. He is  _ not _ .

…

This is probably a terrible idea.

Harry almost veers off course, at the last minute, in order to pretend that he was coming over here to look at the accounting section all along. But he squashes down the impulse, and takes the final couple of steps, resting his textbook awkwardly on the edge of the library table that Louis is working at.

“Hey.”

Louis looks up at him, and smiles so big that Harry can’t help but wonder if everyone gets that level of smile, when Louis sees someone, or if that is reserved just for him.

“Oh, hi! I was going to come over and say hi, I had just told myself that I had to finish this question.”

Harry curses internally, because as far as he can tell all he has been doing is approaching Louis randomly. It would have been nice for Louis to approach him.

Fighting the urge to roll his eyes at his own line of thought, Harry tries to concentrate on the conversation.

“You really like this table, huh?”

Louis shrugs, and pats the surface slightly.

“I guess. I’m a creature of habit.”

Harry smirks, and tips his head to one side, observing Louis, and the way that his fingers have curled under themselves, as if he regrets the previous gesture.

“Pretty sure that only old people call themselves ‘creatures of habit’.”

Louis looks slightly guilty at that, but then smiles, pushing at his hair with his hands, and he is always doing that, Harry wonders if he even notices how often he tucks his hair behind his ear.

“Oh well. I’ll just wait for my body to catch up with my mind.”

Harry doesn’t know what to say to that, and so looks vaguely around at the bookshelves that surround three quarters of this table.

“Cool plan, umm. Hope you liked your orange.”

Louis nods, and then starts rearranging his textbooks.

“Yeah dude – what’s not to like about oranges? Um. You can come sit here if you want? I figured you must have table envy, or something…”

Harry snorts, but then nods, setting his textbook down on the table and then folding his arms in front of himself.

“Um, yeah, okay. Cool. I’ll just, uh, I just go move my belongings over here…”

Walking away, so he can’t stutter anymore, Harry decides that that couldn’t have gone much better if he’d planned it.

…

Louis doesn’t know how he manages to get his work done, with Harry sitting just across the table from him. For the first two minutes the words are just dancing on the page, and Louis checks himself, a couple of times, to confirm that he isn’t obviously vibrating, from being around Harry.

However, Harry doesn’t seem to be in much of a mood for discussion, but is instead pretty solidly focused on the textbook in front of him, highlighting something every thirty seconds or so. And if there is a slight pinkness to Harry’s cheeks, Louis decides that the cause is the temperature of the library, rather than anything more.

It’s… nice, Louis thinks, once his heartbeat has levelled out to a normal rate. Because he’s always on the lookout for a study partner, but the problem with his friends is that they have a tendency to check their answers with him. And that means that he loses focus for a moment.

But because Harry is a year above, and studying topics that Louis hasn’t had to deal with yet, it means that there is nothing to distract Louis except the prettiness of Harry’s eyes, and the way that Harry’s fingers fidget with the curled page corners of the textbook he is reading.

Which, granted, are just a different form of distraction, but Louis knows which one he prefers.

After fifteen minutes or so, Harry sits back in his seat, and rolls his shoulders gently, with his eyes closed. And a small part of his brain is forced to go  _ yup, definitely attracted to him _ , because he is certain that he’s never watched his friend’s collarbones with the intensity that he just watched Harry’s.

Harry blinks his eyes open after a second.

“What are you listening to?”

Louis had almost forgotten that he still had an earphone in one ear, and the playlist that he’d initially started this morning had long since finished. He pulls it out, and gestures at it.

“Oh, um. Nothing, actually. I hadn’t noticed that it had stopped.”

Harry smiles widely at him, and then scrunches up his nose.

“I do that sometimes too.”

Louis shrugs with one shoulder, unable to say  _ I think I was too involved in listening to how we were just sharing the same silence to notice. _ So instead he says “What sort of music do you like?”

“Oh, you know. Stuff.”

Louis nods, grinning.

“Yeah? Cool. They’re my favorite band.”

Harry laughs quietly, and then nods back.

“Right? Their second album- wow.”

Louis snorts, and then gestures at his phone, which is resting on the table next to him.

“You can have a listen, if you like? My friend James sends me loads of songs, I’ve got playlists that run for hours.”

Harry tips his head to one side, as if considering, and then nods, and it is isn’t Louis' imagination, Harry is definitely blushing.

“Um, yeah, okay- cool. That’d be cool.”

Louis taps at his phone to start the playlist that he usually listens to when he is working, and then slides it over, earphones still attached. Harry picks up the earphones, and smiles.

“Thanks.”

Louis shrugs, focusing on not exploding.

“You’re welcome.”

…

After another twenty minutes, the librarian starts coming around to encourage students to leave. Which is good, because Louis certainly wasn’t volunteering to leave, but on the other hand there is a limit to how long he can stretch out this assignment of planning a history essay. He doesn’t know if an essay has ever been so thoroughly prepared.

Harry nods at the librarian, and then slides Louis' phone back to him.

“Guess I’ll have to finish this at home…”

Louis mumbles that sucks and then checks his phone.

There’s a couple of messages from Liam.

_ Where you at, kiddo? You need a ride? _

_ Just back and you ain’t here- you okay? _

Louis twists his mouth sideways, and then looks up at Harry.

“I’d best be going. Thanks for the company.”

Harry smiles, and then nods, seemingly extra busy with packing his belongings away.

“Yeah, you too. Um, do you need a ride? The school buses have gone.”

Louis shakes his head, because though the odds of Liam seeing him get out of Harry’s car are slim, they aren’t impossible.

“Nah, I’ll just get a public bus; the service is pretty frequent. Thanks though.”

Harry mumbles  _ cool _ , and then they’re both walking out of the library together, and walking down the corridor together, and Louis is proud of himself for how cool he is managing to play this.

He waves once at Harry, when their paths take them in separate directions.

“See you later.”

Harry waves back, smiling, and Louis turns away, hitching up his bag on his shoulders and trying not to grin too wide.

“Hey, Louis?”

Louis manages to turn without tripping.

“Yeah?”

“I liked your music.”

Cool. So cool. This is so cool.

“Cool – I’ll tell James.”

Harry shrugs to say  _ if you like _ , before disappearing around a corner. Louis thinks about punching the air, but decides against it, in case anyone is watching.

…

“Hi! Where’ve you been, you enormous geek? Flirting with the librarian again?”

Louis dumps his bag on the ground, and comes through to the kitchen, where Liam and his mom are working on dinner, or rather his mom is working on dinner and Liam keeps trying to pinch the raw sliced pepper.

“Yeah yeah, just that- you know you are only jealous of her love for me, Li.”

Liam nods, crunching up the pepper gleefully.

“Oh yeah, that lady can rock a twinset like no-one else; style icon.”

Louis leans past him, to swipe some pepper for himself, and his mom tuts at him, before telling them to both get out of the kitchen, or “there’ll be no dinner left!”

Liam pokes Louis in the butt with his foot, as they both leave.

“Hey- did you get the public bus back then? I’d have come picked you up, just call me next time.”

Louis shrugs, feeling guilty for reasons that he decides are nonsensical and unfounded.

“Thanks Li – I guess I just thought I’d save you the effort. Supporting the local economy too. You know. That sort of thing.”

Liam gives him a weird look, but Louis is already escaping this conversation, halfway up the stairs, bag in hand.

“Okay, you little weirdo- just know that if I’m always here for you, you know? For rides or whatever? If you need me.”

It’s not the first time that Liam’s said that to him, but it is the first time Louis' found himself really hoping that it is true.

“Thanks Li- actually, me and James were thinking of taking a road trip up to Canada, if you could drive…?”

“Oh, fuck  _ off _ , Louis- sorry mom, sorry!”

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and bookmarks and comments are all nice. I feel like maybe I don't mention that enough. But they really are.


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello! This is chapter 5.
> 
> This is an AU story. Everything is lie. 
> 
> Thank you for reading, kudos-ing, bookmarking, feedback-ing, etc.
> 
> …

**Chapter Five**

Their presentation goes well.

Zayn restrains himself, and even manages to abstain from giving everyone the finger as a grand finale, as he had threatened to before the lesson.

Louis decides, all over again, that school is weird – all this stress and practice for just over five minutes of presenting to a bored, disinterested class, and a teacher who looks up from his mark book about three times in total. Louis is pretty relaxed about speaking in front of the class, and only has a few nerves, mainly on behalf of James and Eleanor. But he guesses Eleanor is more nervous that he is admitting to by the way his knee jiggles for the first thirty seconds of his section. And James’s delivery is oddly stilted, as though he has been up all night, memorizing what he is going to say.

And yet, in just over five minutes, it is all over, and they’re receiving vague applause from the rest of the class. Mr Lee gives Louis a nod, and a brief smile. Louis hopes that they are going to get slightly more thorough feedback than that.

The next group clearly have done only the most basic of preparation, and it is pretty intensive fiesta of awkward that they have to sit through, for a couple of minutes, until Mr Lee calls time.

Zayn leans into him, and whispers “I think they needed some costume changes.”

Louis snorts, and shushes him with a quick poke to the ribs.

“I’m not sure that even a glitter cannon could have saved them.”

…

Zayn sits with him during lunch, and they manage to get a section which is a bit quieter than the rest of the hall to eat. The weather is turning, and because this end of the hall is closest to the exit to the school yard, it means that these tables fill up last.

It is some kind of pot pie today. Louis pokes at the crust, uninspired. Zayn lifts the lid of his with a fork, peers inside, and then recoils.

“Okay, so, looks like vomit, but smells okay, so I guess we just eat with our eyes closed.”

Louis nods, tapping at the lid of the pie with the back of his spoon, like it is a hard boiled egg. Zayn picks up his knife and fork with the manner of a coroner about to perform an autopsy, and then glances over at Louis.

“So? Who’s the track boy?”

Instinctively, Louis feigns innocence.

“What track boy?”

Zayn pauses, looks at Louis, and then stabs his pie with a sudden movement that has Louis jumping.

“Okay, I’ll let you have that one, but you know exactly who I’m talking about. The track boy in the library? The one you owe money?”

Louis nods, because obviously, and puts down his fork, anxious to take a drink and think about how he is going to deal with this.

“Oh yeah. Um. He’s called Harry. He’s on the track team.”

Zayn inserts a forkful of pie into his mouth, and chews around his words.

“Okay cool, I was actually hoping for a new episode, rather than just a recap on what I already know. How do you know him?”

Louis clears his throat, hoping to not sound awkward.

“I don’t. Not really. We’ve spoken a couple of times. He seems nice.”

“Oh nice, yeah. He’s also hella hot, Louis. Or had you not noticed that?”

Louis shrugs, blushing slightly in the face of Zayn’s shit eating grin.

“Yeah, I had, um, mentally noted that he has a good face.”

Zayn laughs at that, and then just smiles affectionately at Louis for a moment.

“I have  _ no idea _ why you don’t have a boyfriend, with compliments like that. ‘ _ Has a good face _ .’ You smooth talker.”

Louis flips him off, much to Zayn’s delight, and then goes back to his food.

“Shut up Zayn, it isn’t even like that… boys who look like that aren’t interested in boys like me.”

Zayn scoffs, seemingly outraged on Louis' behalf.

“Oh sure, and what does that mean, boys like you?”

“Male boys, you know?” Louis raises his eyebrows at Zayn afterwards, challenging him to try and deny it, and Zayn shrugs, looking away.

“Whatever – you didn’t see the way he was ogling the back of your head. And he’s on the  _ track team _ \- have you seen those shorts. Case not closed. Case very much open.”

Louis takes another bite of his pie, in an effort to avoid saying anything. Because yes, he’d very much like this case to be open, but in a weird way that feels like the least of his problems.

Zayn reads his mind, after a moment of silent reflection, because the next comment he comes out with is “So, does your brother still hate everyone in a track team kit?”

Louis grunts, and then nods.

“Yeah, exactly that. So case closed.”

Zayn makes a face, and points at Louis.

“No, case more challenging. But not closed. Never closed. Follow your dreams.”

“Shut up Zayn.”

…

Recess always goes too quickly, and so Louis and Zayn walk back to their lockers after wasting time over their almost inedible apple turnover, which had been so solid it was a challenge to get the spoon in.

Louis has double history this afternoon, and is pretty preoccupied with trying to remember which unit they focus on in this time slot, because he has two different textbooks, and is constantly unsure which he has to bring to class. So when Zayn nudges him, Louis thinks it is just Zayn doing his usual thing of randomly jostling him in corridors. And so he deliberately takes a step sideways, and knocks Zayn off course.

“Oof- ow Louis, I wasn’t- there’s  _ your track boy _ .”

_ His track boy _ . Louis replays the phrase over in his head a couple of times, thinking about how much he likes the sound of it, before the knowledge actually filters through his brain, and he looks ahead.

Harry is opening up his locker with one hand, frowning down at the timetable in his hand. He’s got it resting on top of a couple of textbooks, and Louis has taken a couple of steps over before he can even process what he is doing.

“Hey, here, let me…”

Louis lifts the textbooks out of Harry’s unresisting hand, and then panics instantly, because Harry hadn’t been struggling, like Louis had, that time, and so Louis now looks like some kind of potential book thief.

Harry just glances at him, however, and smiles softly, before delving into his locker with both hands.

“Thanks Louis.”

Louis decides that he really, really likes the way that Harry says his name. Out of the corner of his eye, he watches as Zayn veers to one side, and fakes extreme interest in a display board that hasn’t been updated for about six months, just to keep watching Louis and Harry’s interaction. Louis mentally fumbles for a way to subtly encourage Zayn to keep moving, but he is coming up with blanks. Besides, it isn’t as though anything exciting is going to happen in this corridor.

Harry reclaims his textbooks from Louis' hands after a moment, and adds them to the folder, that he has clutched to his chest. Louis coughs, nervously.

“Sorry, I was just, um. Thought you might need a hand.”

There’s a flicker of a smile at the corner of Harry’s mouth, and Louis focuses on not staring at Harry’s lips. Harry murmurs, warmly “I know what you were doing, Louis.”

On reflection, maybe it isn’t Harry’s tone that is warm, but rather Louis' face. But then, there’s a look in Harry’s eyes, which suggests that Louis' sudden appearance at his side wasn’t unwelcomed, and the corridor doesn’t seem so busy, now.

Words. Words. Words.

“I liked my orange.”

The second after it is out of his mouth, Louis closes his eyes in a wince, because the orange has already been discussed and unless he is trying to convince Harry that it was  _ the greatest orange that he had ever experienced _ , there is really no need to keep bringing it up.

Harry giggles slightly, probably at Louis' reaction, and then steps away, offering a raise of his eyebrows.

“Good to know, Louis. I’ll see you around, okay?”

Louis nods, and takes a few steps backwards, blurting out a  _ you too _ , because why say something that actually makes sense? However, he’s managed to turn around, and fall back into step with Zayn.

Zayn, thankfully, is silent for at least thirty seconds, until they’ve rounded a corridor, and then says “I need you to know that I may have just fractured several ribs from the strain of not laughing at your super smooth brand of oranges small talk.”

“Shut up Zayn.”

“No, seriously Louis, your  _ you too _ line? Killer. So smooth.”

…

Harry closes his locker after a moment, hoping that he’s managed to arrange his face into something that isn’t  _ too _ obvious.

Because predictably, when he closes the locker door, there’s Cara on the other side of it, smirking at him.

“Oh, shush.”

Cara levers herself up from the metal wall that the lockers provide, and starts walking towards the science department. Harry takes a couple of quick skips, and then falls into step with Cara, hugging his folders tight to his chest.

Cara clears his throat after a moment, smiling quietly.

“So I think we can be clear that he liked the orange.”

Harry grins despite himself, and wrinkles his nose.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure.”

“And that he likes you. Although, really, who doesn’t?”

Harry rolls his eyes, and pushes at her vaguely with his shoulder, even as something inside him does a cartwheel. Cara returns the gesture, and hitches her bag slightly higher on her shoulder.

“Though I think what is slightly more surprising, is that you like him, too.”

Harry shushes her again, but Cara isn’t one for sensationalizing things. She doesn’t gossip. Even during that really messy stage, when it felt like everyone on the team had been talking about him, Cara had smoothly ignored everything. It was one of the main reasons that Harry thought of her as his best friend. Cara is trust-worthy, and didn’t get involved in the drama.

Besides, Harry knows that, to Cara, he has been pretty obvious. Mentioned Louis at least three times in conversation, and the entire orange incident, despite it being Cara’s idea, was a bit of a give away too. Harry likes to minimize the interaction that he does with unknown people, really.

But the problem is that Louis isn’t unknown. Not entirely.

“You know who his brother is, right?”

Cara glances at Harry, and then tips her head, in acknowledgement of a significant issue.

“Yeah. So that’ll be something to think about.”

Harry hums, looking away from Cara’s inquisitive gaze.

Because he’s getting a bit bored of just  _ thinking  _ about it.

…

The problem becomes; how does Louis do  _ more _ than just mumble out awkward conversation whenever he randomly bumps into Harry?

Because Louis feels like there might, possibly, be the potential for more. Louis is by no means experienced in the art of flirting, but he thinks, or maybe just hopes, that Harry might be giving him some signals which are more than just  _ lets be friends _ .

He doesn’t know though. Maybe it is his gaydar doing its usual trick of being a  _ really hope that you are gay _ dar. The number of times that Louis has decided that his new favorite actor must be gay, only to then do a disappointing Google search, is embarrassing.

Louis doesn’t really know if Harry is just being friendly, or whatever. And he would kind of really appreciate some kind of indicator.

“Louis? Louis. Earth to Louis?”

Louis realizes that Liam is talking to him after a moment, and waves brightly, from the other end of the couch. Liam snorts, and then pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Were you just buffering, for a second there? Anyway,  _ as I just said _ , it’s a no-go for coming home with me this Friday, I’m afraid – coach is taking us to train with the university squad, on a blatant ideas stealing mission. But, if you need something big carrying home, then I can give you a ride tomorrow instead?”

Louis nods, and shrugs, trying to not give away how quickly he is thinking. Because he had been hoping for another reason to sit on the bleachers for the after school training session, just in case Harry had wanted to come and be awkwardly friendly around him. But that was no longer looking like an option.

“Uhh, yeah, I’ll check my timetable.”

It’s a lie, of course. Louis will discover that there isn’t anything that heavy to carry home, and then he’ll get on the school bus at the end of the day on Friday like everyone does, because he can’t really justify sitting on the bleachers alone staring at the track team without the flimsy excuse of waiting for Liam.

Can he?

After a moment, Liam leans across, and pokes him in the side of the head.

“Hey. You’ve gone again.”

Louis shrugs, looking down at his feet. Liam comes scooting up closer, and throws an arm around his shoulders, squeezing him tight briefly before releasing him.

“Are you okay Lou-bear? Because you’ve been a bit quiet, recently. If something is bothering you, tell me, okay, and I will happily go and punch that thing in the face for you. Big brother responsibility.”

Louis shrugs, and smiles, despite himself, because of  _ course  _ his brother would solve any problem by punching it in the face.

“Thanks Li- I’m fine though. Just trying to keep up to date with everything, you know?”

Liam flicks at his nose, inexplicably, and then stands up, stretching slightly.

“You work too hard, Louis- you’re a damn sophomore, for god’s sake; you should be running around in the sunshine sucking a lollipop. Do you want anything from the kitchen?”

Louis shakes his head, and then watches Liam go, before rubbing his hand over his face.

He’s used to his brother being a problem  _ solver _ . Louis isn’t sure how to deal with the fact that there is a very strong possibility that the opposite might start to be the case.

 


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello! This is chapter six. This is a very AU story - everything is a lie.   
> Thank you for reading, kudos-ing, bookmarking, commenting, etc - all make it worthwhile!

This might be the sort of thing that could result in Harry threatening to kill Cara.

However, that was the thing about Harry – he might threaten, but that would be out of the fear that the whole thing could back-fire, and he could be rejected.

Considering that Harry was possibly the prettiest boy in the whole of their year, he does a damn good job at behaving as if the reverse is true.

Of course, if that wasn’t the case, then Cara wouldn’t be friends with Harry. If there is one thing that he can’t stand, it is arrogance.

But Cara is damned if he is going to watch Harry figure out for himself how to indicate to Louis that Louis' obvious interest is not unwelcomed.

Their previous training session in the gym had been an endless monologue of Harry explaining to himself why Louis couldn’t possibly like him, despite  _ all evidence _ to the contrary, and there comes a point at which Cara has to just shrug along, because Harry doesn’t like listening to reason, sometimes.

Cara has decided that it has been long enough since the mess of freshman year. Not all dating experiences have that level of disaster written all over them.

So it is with all this in mind, and the certain confidence that comes with knowing that she only has Harry’s  _ best intentions  _ at heart, that Cara walks to a different bus stop, Thursday morning, and gets on the school bus that he thinks is likely to contain Louis.

She’s in luck, because there he is, earphones in, gazing out of the window.

Louis blinks wide, when he sees Cara approaching, and he scoots up automatically, as Cara sits next to him.

This bus seems to be a noisy bus, thankfully, a few groups of students sitting in what look like their usual seats, and the background noise means that Cara can talk without an audience.

“Hey.”

“Hi, um, you don’t usually get this bus.”

Cara shrugs, delving in her bag to check the time on her phone.

“No, but I missed my usual bus, so I asked my mom to give me a ride to this one.”

Louis nods, and then says “Okay, cool. Um. I’m Louis, by the way.” And Cara smiles, because a) she already knows, and b) she likes that Louis just straight up introduced himself. Because who does that?

“Hi, yeah, I know. Harry mentioned. I’m Cara.”

“Yeah, Harry said.”

Check mate. Cara smiles, even as Louis' cheeks look like they start blushing, and looks away, to avoid laughing.

“So, we hear that the football team aren’t going to be around tomorrow training.”

Louis glances over at her, looking suspicious.

“Yeah; how do you know that?”

Cara shrugs, because she’s not getting into the fact that when their coach told them, he’d also tagged on the sentence ‘so maybe we’ll be able to have a training session without the usual accusations flying around’.

“It means we can use the centre pitch for relay change over practices, rather than the out-field- the ground is firmer. Coach was pleased. Double oranges all round.”

Louis nods, and then goes back to looking at his knees.

“Okay, cool. I hope that goes well.”

Cara clears her throat, resisting the urge to roll her eyes.

“Are you going to come watch again?”

Louis squints at her, and then laughs, sounding half embarrassed.

“Oh, no, um, I’m only there because I get a ride with my brother, some Fridays. He’s on the football team, um-”

“Yeah, I know that your brother is Liam. But you can still come watch – you didn’t really seem to be paying that much attention to the football team last time.”

Louis frowns, and shrugs, looking like he’s trying to figure out how to burrow into the upholstery of the seat.

“Um, it’d look a bit weird, randomly watching-”

Cara cuts across him, saying “not if you were waiting for Harry. It’s hard, getting to know someone when you share no classes.”

Louis shrugs again, and Cara smiles, before relenting, and reaching for her own earphones.

“Okay, well, think about it, yeah? Consider this an invite.”

Louis bites at his bottom lip thoughtfully, and then glances at Cara once.

“Does Harry know that we’re having this conversation?”

Cara smiles quietly, and arches an eyebrow in Louis' direction.

“You can ask him that yourself, can’t you?”

…

Louis feels off-balance, all through first period.

It doesn’t help that, in the change-over, when he’s walking to his next class, Perrie takes it upon herself to walk with Louis.

“Who was the girl on the bus?”

Lindsay is such a gossip, it is depressingly predictable. Louis thinks carefully about his answer.

“She’s called Cara. Friend of a friend’s. She missed her bus, and so got on ours.”

Lindsay nods a couple of times, chewing at her gum rapidly, as they weave through the corridor traffic.

She’s gone before Louis can say anything else, turning on her heel to walk back to her usual friends.

…

His day takes a dramatic upturn sometime just before lunch recess ends.

Harry is leaning on the lockers next to his, looking at his phone. And it can’t be a coincidence, it  _ can’t _ .

“Hey.”

Harry looks up, startled, and then fumbles his phone slightly, before cramming it into his pocket.

“Hi! Um. I was…” there’s a teetering second in which Louis wonders whether Harry is about to claim that it is a coincidence, somehow, but then he continues with, “waiting for you.”

Louis smiles, and then busies himself with his locker, to avoid letting his smile grow too big.

“Okay, well, I’m here.”

Harry mumbles  _ yeah _ , and then clears his throat.

“So, I was wondering if you were staying after school on Friday, cause you did the last two times?”

Louis shrugs, even though yes, one hundred percent yes, if Harry is asking him to stay.

“Uh. I’d not planned to, but then Cara said that maybe I should.”

“Oh, okay.” When Louis closes his locker, Harry looks like he is re-evaluating his approach, or possibly just considering murder, it is hard to say. “Um, well, if you do stay, there’s a coffee place just around the block that does really good muffins, and I thought that maybe you and me could, um, unless you think it is a bad idea…”

Louis interrupts.

“No, I think it is a good idea. Really good idea. I’ll, um, I won’t come watch though, I’ve got loads of assignments, so I’ll be the library, so if you still wanted to then you could…”

It comes out in a garbled rush, and Harry is nodding a few times, looking like an escape can’t come quickly enough.

“Yeah, okay, that sounds cool, I’ll come find you when training is over.”

“Okay, cool.”

There’s a pause, in which Louis breathes deeply and Harry smiles quietly, before looking at his sneakers.

“Okay, well I should…”

“Yeah, me too, I’m over in the science block so-”

Who knew communication could be so hard, anyone would think that Louis was desperate to get away from the conversation. Louis stops his sentence, and starts again, trying to gather himself.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Harry wrinkles his nose, and there’s a small smile playing at his lips, which Louis thinks might be hiding a bigger one.

“At your usual library table, is it?”

Louis laughs, and shrugs.

“Am I that predictable already?”

Harry nods, and then bites at his lip, looking like he is holding back from saying something.

“Bye, Louis.”

Louis sticks a hand up in a wave, and takes one step backwards, holding eye contact, before turning on his heel and jogging a little, to make some progress to his lesson.

Louis thinks that progress feels easy.

…

It feels easy all the way up until he gets home.

Because Louis isn’t ready to fully commit to the notion, but he is pretty sure that maybe he and Harry could possibly be going on something which could be defined as a date. Maybe.

And even if it is still just a possibility, and life is littered with missed chances and mistaken assumptions, it’s enough to make Louis feel like his chest is full of helium, and he could maybe float down the sidewalk to his house, if necessary.

And because he is the first person in the family to arrive home, it makes sense to plug his phone into the speakers in the kitchen, and spend a solid half hour dancing around like a lunatic.

Turns out it isn’t necessarily being in a relationship that makes a person happy – it is the  _ possibility _ of being in a relationship which is making Louis' heart sing.

Although Louis thinks that the word relationship might be a bit presumptuous. All he really wants is to be able to hang out with Harry and make him laugh. And if making out is involved then Louis is completely on board.

Louis jumps a little when he hears the front door slam close, and he leans so that he can see down the corridor, where Liam is kicking off his shoes.

“Liam! Come dance with me!”

Liam smiles at him, and comes shimmying into the kitchen, hip checking Louis so hard that Louis staggers a little, and then performs a half-hearted version of the running man, stopping after moment to squint at Louis' phone.

“No but, Louis, what on earth is this shit that you are listening to?”

Louis gasps in outrage, because how dare Liam call his playlist into question, but then taps his phone to silence it, because he can tell that Liam isn’t really feeling in the dancing mood.

“You okay Li?”

Liam shrugs with one shoulder, and opens up the fridge in search of something to eat.

“Yeah, just a sucky day. Coach Winters all over my ass, for some reason.”

Louis frowns, because Coach Winters is the football coach, and usually has nothing but love for Liam. After a moment, Liam turns, smoothie in hand, and smiles at Louis' look of concern.

“Don’t worry Lou, we just had a disagreement about stuff. Come on, let’s watch some shitty kids’ cartoons.”

…

Liam has a headache.

Not one that comes from being ill, because he’s pretty healthy and looks after himself and doesn’t really get viruses.

But it is a band of pain, across his forehead, that he remembers from the stress of revising for his exams at the end of last year. Which he now recognizes as a tension headache.

Because he is  _ tense. _

Coach Winters is one of the few teachers in that entire school who Liam actually deems to be sane. And he’s good at what he does, and speaks to Liam like he’s an adult, and actually looks like a PE teacher, rather than some of the flab fortresses that also get to call themselves a PE teacher.

But that doesn’t mean that he is correct about everything.

‘Building bridges with the track team’ – honestly? Does he not remember the shit storm of Championships two years ago?

Liam pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to forget about it. Because Coach Winters can have the track team and cheerers making each other friendship bracelets if he wants, but he can do it  _ next year _ , when Liam is out of there.

Coach Winters suggested that Liam was being irrational. That he was taking things too personally.

All very easy for him to say. Because of course it was personal- since when does Liam feel strongly about things which are not personal?

“Li?”

Liam blinks, and then glances down the sofa, to where Louis is sprawling out, looking like a very contented cat, somehow. He looks happy, and Liam redoubles his efforts to not be in a bad mood, because he doesn’t want to bring Louis down.

“Yeah? What’s up?”

“By the time that you were in my year, were you dating?”

Liam struggles to cover the surprise on his face, and clearly doesn’t do a very good job of it, from the way that Louis rolls his eyes, looking away.

“Shut up.”

Liam snorts, and then rearranges himself on the couch, because this is a surprising conversation that has his full attention.

“Are you and Zayn finally going steady? Because the announcement of your engagement is long overdue; just propose to him already, will you?”

Louis grabs the corner of a cushion and swings it at Liam, who is already laughing as he fends it away.

“Oh, you were looking for a serious answer?”

A foot comes to poke Liam’s side, and when Liam looks over again Louis has sobered, and has a very earnest expression on his face.

“If you wouldn’t mind?”

Liam purses his lips slightly, and tries to decide which percentage of the truth he is handing over.

“In sophomore… well, obviously all the girls wanted the honor, of dating me.”

Louis nods, playing along.

“Obviously.”

“Obviously. But, no, not really, not in the first half of the year. Because I’d decided that I was only going to date the most attractive girl in school, and no one else. So I was pretty focused on making her realize that she was wildly in love with me.”

Louis smirks, returning his gaze to the television screen.

“And how long did it take before she had that realization?”

Liam tips his head to one side, trying to indicate that the memories were vague.

“We were kind of a thing during the National Games. But not really, and then she proved herself to be a dick over the summer.  _ And  _ she was in senior year, so it wasn’t really ever going to work out, and frankly now creeps me out, retrospectively.”

Louis squints at him, looking curious.

“Wait, was she on the cheer squad?”

Liam shrugs, because this is  _ not important _ , not any more.

“No, track. Should have guessed she was going to turn out to be a dick. But yeah, for a while I was the envy of every boy in school, which is a role that I was born to play.”

“What was her name?”

The question catches him off guard, which is why Liam answers it.

“Sarah.”

“Sarah Hyland?”

Liam looks over sharply, because what the fuck?

“Yeah, how the hell did you know that? You weren’t even in school then.”

Louis looks away, suddenly extremely focused on the screen.

“Lucky guess – seen that name on a few trophies around school.”

Liam grunts, suddenly anxious to get the conversation moving along.

“Yeah, well, turns out she wasn’t worth all the effort. But I guess I wasn’t really dating until the back half of sophomore, and even then she was a complete asshole and I wasn’t having a good time. So there’s no rush Louis – and it is worth waiting for a boy who is not crazy or using you or whatever.”

Louis nods, wisely, and then tucks his legs up underneath him, smiling at nothing.

“Good call, Li.”

Something about Louis' voice makes Liam think he’s not getting the full truth, but then again, what’s a few secrets between family members?

…

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> entertained? :)


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Seven. This is an AU story  
> Thank you for reading, kudos-ing, bookmarking, commenting; all appreciated.  
> This is all lies. SFW.

Friday afternoon happens to Louis. The lessons go on around him. Louis attempts to not wish the time away, because education is important.

By the time he’s waved goodbye to Zayn and Eleanor, who inexplicably bounce away together arm in arm, Louis thinks that he might be on the verge of hyperventilation. Because he’s worried that he is going to forget how to be normal, somehow, as if he hasn’t been doing that all her life.

James catches him by the lockers, and gives him a grin.

“Hey – you okay?”

Louis knows that he is asking, because James is a perceptive kind of guy, and Louis thinks that something in his chest is going to pop with the need to tell  _ someone _ .

“Don’t tell anyone, but I think I’m about to go on a date type thing.”

James raises his eyebrows, probably at the phrase ‘date type thing’, but other than that doesn’t seem too concerned.

“I’m not going tell anyone – I don’t really speak to anyone who’d be interested. Who is the person?”

Louis smiles, at how James asks ‘person’, rather than ‘boy’, even though he knows that he is gay. He’s just doing his level best to not prejudge or assume anything.

“Harry- the boy from the library.”

James nods a couple of times, and tugs his bag higher up on his shoulder.

“The boy from the track team? Does your brother know?”

Louis rolls his eyes, and shrugs, looking at his shoes.

“No, obviously not.”

James clears his throat, and scratches at the back of his head.

“You know that you don’t have to buy into your brother’s drama if you don’t want to?”

Louis twists his mouth into a smile, and then nods, because they’ve been through this before, him and James.

“I know, I just don’t know if Liam knows that.”

James shrugs, and gestures over his shoulder.

“Well, good luck, and that sort of stuff. You’ll have to tell someone else if you want to do that thing of talking through it afterwards, though.”

Louis smiles up at him, and says “Thanks James, but just telling someone feels good enough.”

James holds up a hand awkwardly for a moment, and ends up patting him on the head, as Louis laughs.

“Okay, well, good. See you on Monday, yeah?”

Louis snorts, and shoves him away, but some of the nerves have dissipated, at least.

…

Harry showers, and pulls on the clean change of clothes that he deliberately packed this morning.

His palms are doing that weird tingle thing where they ache slightly, as if saying  _ yes, help, we’re nervous too _ . Harry clenches them a few times, while they are stuffed inside his pockets, and then flaps his hands around vigorously for a second, when nobody is looking.

“Whoa, okay, you okay there Styles?”

When he  _ thought  _ no-one was looking.

“Oh, um, yeah, just, you know, got cramp, in my fingers.”

Great, excellent explanation. Harry makes a mental note to never join the CIA, as Stan, one of the few boys on the team as tall as Harry, smiles understandingly at him, as though finger cramp was an affliction suffered by long distance runners everywhere.

“Aww, I hate it when the underside of my foot goes.”

Harry hums noncommittally, and then pointlessly starts rooting in his track bag, before zipping it up with sudden intent, because he is supposed to be packing, not  _ unpacking _ .

“It’s nearly gone now. But yeah, ouch. Um, I’ll see you next week. Have a good weekend.”

Stan calls out a response in turn, but Harry is already out of there, swinging his bag up so he can carry it on both shoulders.

He likes Stan well enough, having known the dark haired boy for nearly three years now. But Harry never really allows himself to get close to anyone on the team; he has a carefully constructed wall of formality that he stays behind. That was for the best. He doesn’t like rumors, and the track team are rife with them. About each other, about the football team.

The football team are just as good at slinging their own mud, though. Harry thinks that some of them think it is all light hearted entertainment.

His heart is aching,  _ pre-emptively _ , somehow.

…

Breathe, breathe. Breathe.

Louis' tapping a pen against the edge of the table, but only notices when the librarian shushes him loudly.

“Sorry.”

“That’s the third time I’ve had to ask you to stop doing that, Louis.”

Louis nods meekly, and deliberately puts his pen into his bag, so he is not tempted.

Another thing that he is not allowing himself to do is check his phone, and that’s why he’s sitting at his table, history textbook open in front of him, staring blankly at a source reference as though it is going to start having some meaning for him.

Louis had realized, just as he was getting out his books at the start of this pretend study session, that he didn’t know if Harry was publicly anything other than straight.

Because, pretty much everyone knows that Louis is gay – if anyone cared about him enough to start asking around, Louis is sure they could find out in the space of about five seconds. Louis thinks that this is the easiest way to be, somehow. No-one can be surprised by it.

Whereas Harry… Louis has never heard anyone talking about him. Which is crazy in a way, because Louis thinks that he has got to be one of the hottest boys in school, so how is he just slipping under the radar?

Louis marks this down as a conversation to  _ not  _ have with Harry, this afternoon. There is such a thing as going too personal too fast.

Keep the topics light, he decides. Music, school, which teachers suck, does he like his last name, their shared love of oranges, all the casual subjects.

Louis strikes a deal with himself, and allows himself to check the time on his watch, instead of his phone.

When does training finish…?

“Hey.”

Louis jumps up, and manages to not knock his chair out from underneath him.

“Hi! I was just… uh. Waiting for you.”

Harry smiles, and then tips his head to one side, as if he is assessing Louis.

“Yeah, that was- that was the plan, wasn’t it?”

Louis nods, and Harry shifts from one foot to another, looking suddenly shy, and when he looks down at his feet his hair falls in front of his face, which makes Louis' heart do a odd little flip flop of pointlessness.

Progress. Keep making progress.

“Hang on, I’ll just get my books together…”

His hands are choosing to not fully co-operate with him, however, and the History course book ends up thudding to the floor. Louis shushes it, in a move that has Harry giggling, earning them a cough and a stern look from the librarian. Louis waves a hand in apology.

“Sorry, we’re just going…”

…

“I can’t believe you almost got me thrown out of the library.”

Harry snorts, playing with the handle of his coffee mug for something to do with his hands.

“You are the one who decided to trash the place.”

Louis clutches his hand to his chest at the accusation, and looks woeful.

“The library is my second home, if you are planning to come between us then I’ll have to do some serious thinking about this situation.”

Harry smiles quietly, and notices that Louis' words make him feel funny for two reasons. The first is that he likes that Louis doesn’t try and deny his love of the library, like most people would do if they were trying to impress someone new. It feels very honest. Harry likes that.

The second is that Louis' words imply that Harry is going to be part of Louis' time, in the future. Harry isn’t sure in what capacity, but the suggestion is there.

Harry faces up to the fact that he  _ likes _ this funny, honest boy opposite him, with the bright blue eyes and the easy laugh. And that, after a year and a half of being abstractly bisexual, he is now bisexual and  _ interested _ in someone.  A male someone. It is both terrifying and exhilarating.

Louis clears his throat, and looks down, mumbling an apology while blushing, and Harry realizes that he’s just been staring at Louis for a couple of moments. In silence.

“Oh, no, sorry, I was just- I zone out, sometimes, when I’m thinking about things.”

Oh, okay, way to look like a complete weirdo. Harry looks down at his fingers, feeling awkward. After a moment Louis takes a deep breath, as though he’s about to say something suddenly, but then breathes out slowly.

“I do that too. Uh. What were you thinking about?”

Harry looks up, and Louis immediately looks away, as if he is worried that he’s gone too far. Harry shrugs, anxious to share because he doesn’t want Louis to start not saying the first thing that comes into his head.

“Just thinking about how it is kind of weird, that I didn’t really know you, before. Um. I mean, I know that you are the year below, but still, it’s like, I wasn’t even  _ aware _ of you. Somehow. Which is weird, because now I don’t know how I didn’t notice you. Because you’re so…”

Harry trails off, because he doesn’t even know where he is going with that sentence. Louis looks back at him, and shrugs.

“Too much time in the library, I guess. It makes me easy to miss.”

Harry shakes his head, because no, that isn’t it.

“No, you aren’t miss-able. I guess, I just wasn’t looking, before.”

Louis blinks at him, and then reaches for his coffee cup, seeming to place his fingers very deliberately, as though he is scared of messing up, somehow.

“And now you are looking?”

Harry bites at his lip, because he knows what he is trying to communicate, but his tongue is in danger of tripping up over itself and he’s just got to hope that Louis is capable of reading between the lines.

“Yeah. And, you know. Liking what I am finding.”

Louis goes silent for a moment, and then laughs, self-consciously.

“Wow, who’d have thought that even my ears could blush, seriously…”

Harry laughs despite himself, and leans a bit closer, squinting dramatically at them.

“All in your head, Lou, I can’t see anything.”

Louis covers his ears, eyeing Harry suspiciously, and both of them start giggling. And it isn’t even that funny, but it is an excuse to leave behind a conversation that had gotten very intense, very quickly.

Louis sighs a couple of times, and looks at Harry. A small part of Harry acknowledges that he seems to be able to take the eye contact, that he doesn’t flinch away from it like he might with other people.

So he says it.

“I like this.”

He doesn’t say  _ I like you _ , because that’s a leap into the void that he isn’t prepared to take, but it doesn’t require much processing to figure what Harry means.

Louis bites at his bottom lip, and then Harry has to look away, because there is such a thing as too much eye contact.

“Yeah? Me too. I like this too.”

_ Okay, good _ , Harry thinks. Ground rules established.

…

Louis thinks that maybe this couldn’t have gone better. 

He doesn’t even taste the muffin, despite the whole point of this whatever it is being that apparently these muffins are really good. It could have been the worst muffin in the world and Louis wouldn’t have been the slightest bit aware.

But he is pleased to discover that he and Harry just get on. The conversation flows easily, and Louis doesn’t feel like he is having to work to make Harry smile or laugh.

And Louis is laughing too, because Harry is funny, in his own quiet way. And again, Louis doesn’t understand why Harry isn’t the boy that everyone wants, because the phrase ‘just look at him’ no longer applies to this boy who is charming, and funny, and adorable, while also being incredibly pretty.

Harry goes to the restrooms, and Louis pays the bill, because he wants to and also because, regardless of whether this is date, Louis is taking no chances.

On his return, Harry smiles at him in a funny way, and picks up his sports bag easily, slinging it up onto his shoulders.

“Thanks, you didn’t have to.”

Louis shrugs, following suit with his own bag and double checking that he’s not forgotten anything.

“I wanted to.”

Harry looks at him for a moment, smile playing around his lips, and then turns away, heading for the exit and holding the door open for Louis.

“Okay, but I pay next time, okay?”

Next time.

“Deal.”

…

Harry offers Louis a ride home, because it would be rude not to, and also he is looking for any excuse to try and stretch out this moment.

Louis dithers for a moment, framing half sentences about catching a bus and not wanting to be an inconvenience to Harry, but Harry knows he wants to say yes.

“Come on; until now I’ve only ever driven Cara to places, and he says that I drive like an old lady – I’d appreciate the second opinion.”

Harry doesn’t know what music to put on, and feels a brief pulse of intense pressure, because all of Louis' songs had sounded really cool, and Harry knows that her collection of scratched CDs will never be able to compete with that. So in the end he decides to forgo music altogether, which doesn’t seem to be a problem, because Louis chats away easily.

Maybe Harry does drive like an old lady, but Louis doesn’t seem to mind, or notice, asking Harry questions about when he learned to drive, and talking about his own plans.

“Liam asked for lessons as a birthday gift, so he was driving pretty much as soon as he was legal, but, I don’t know if I have that same  _ need _ to get it done. I don’t mind buses. And Liam is really good at offering me rides to places. Younger sibling privilege.”

Harry nods, and hopes to steer the conversation away from the issue of Louis' big brother, who Harry had managed to not think about for the whole afternoon.

“I think my parents wanted me to have some independence. Also, this way I can get myself to track meets and events, which is probably more convenient for them.”

Louis says “That’s cool”, and then starts providing more specific instructions, because they’re nearly at his home.

“If you just pull up on the corner, here, save you going down the street, cause it can take ages to turn left out of our road again.”

Harry complies, thinking to himself that this arrangement also has the added bonus of meaning that there is no chance of Liam seeing his younger brother get out of Harry’s car.

Harry wonders whether Louis was thinking the same thing.

“There you go.”

Louis smiles brightly, and clears his throat.

“Thanks. I, uh. I had fun.”

Harry nods, feeling shy all of a sudden.

“Yeah, me too.”

Louis fiddles with his bag straps for a moment, and then looks over at Harry quickly, as though he has just remembered something.

“Oh- um, if not then that’s cool, there’s this thing happening downtown, on Sunday, that I was going to go to, but um. But, I can’t get any of my friends to go, so I was wondering. If you’d come with me?”

Harry nods quickly, and then tries to look as if he is accepting casually, for a lack of anything better to do.

“Um, sure, I don’t have any plans. What is the thing?”

Louis waves a hand around, looking vague.

“Um. I’m not really sure. Actually, I don’t even know if there is a thing, though there must be something we could go look at. I just wanted to see you again, before school. So.”

Louis trails off, as though he is worrying that he is saying too much, and Harry laughs, trying to fight off a blush.

“Okay, well, you do your research, and let me know. I’ll come to whatever thing you find.”

“Cool, okay, phew. We should, um, exchange numbers or something, so that I can tell you what the thing is, when I have figured out what the thing is.”

Harry smiles, and gestures for Louis' phone, which he hands over once unlocking it. Harry types in his number quickly, and then returns it.

“There. I guess I’ll see you on Sunday.”

Louis nods firmly, and then glances over, smiling.

“To be honest, even if there isn’t a thing, I’d probably invent one.”

_ God _ , Harry likes him. How is he that smooth and a complete dork at the same time?

Harry realizes that he wants to kiss Louis, but there is the problem of seat belts and he is probably only just pulled over safely and what if kissing him now counts as being too eager?

Louis' mouth does a thing where it looks like it compresses a smile, and then Louis nods, reaching for the door handle.

“So Sunday, yeah?”

Harry nods, and looks away, running her hands around the steering wheel as a distraction method.

“Yeah- looking forward to it. And thanks for the coffee.”

Louis pauses to lean back down into the car, and waves.

“It was your idea Harry, so thank you. Have a good night.”

“You too, Louis.”

Louis closes the door gently, and then jogs away the first couple of steps, before his rhythm eases out into a brisk walk. And Harry isn’t going to sit here watching Louis walk away, and so checks his wing mirror, before smoothly pulling out into traffic.

That went so much better than he could have even hoped for.

So the nerves pooling in his gut make  _ no sense _ whatsoever.

Harry decides to call them butterflies, for the time being.

…


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello! This is chapter eight. This is a very AU story - everything is a lie.
> 
> Thank you for all the support, and for letting me know you are enjoying it :)

After an evening of frantic online research, Louis narrows the ‘thing’ down to three possible options.

There’s a new café opening in downtown San Francisco, which is putting on some kind of event to try and drum up some interest. Louis kind of wants to go for that, because it sounds like a safe option. But he is also aware that they just went to a café that day, and doesn’t want to repeat it. Also, if it is an opening, then it’ll probably be really busy, and Louis doesn’t want to feel rushed, or as though they’re being listened to.

Closer to them, is some kind of exhibition of some cool artist in an art gallery that his parents have dragged him to on a couple of occasions. The advantages are that there won’t be any rush, the disadvantage is that he’ll have to feign interest in art, for which Louis is rapidly learning that he has almost none. Also, it feels slightly too… grown up, Louis decides. Too formal, maybe.

Then, on the other side of town, there’s some kind of outdoor event in a park that Louis thinks he has been to once. It’s raising funds for a local charity, and it sounds like there’ll be some stalls, and a couple of bands, and some kind of kite flying competition.

Louis checks the weather, and it looks like it is due to be a nice day on Sunday. So the only real problem is that the park is pretty far away, and it’ll take Louis a couple of bus rides to reach it.

Louis makes a decision, and leans across his bed, stretching to grab his phone on the bedside table.

Harry’s number is easy to find; Louis doesn’t know anyone else whose name begins with a h.

Louis bites his lip, and decides to go for speed, because if he stalls in the slightest, then he’ll be double checking every word.

_ Hey, it’s Louis. Have a look at this link – see if you think it would be a good ‘thing’. _

Louis flexes his fingers, trying to get rid of some nervous energy, and returns to his laptop, checking which buses he’ll have to use, and how long the journey could take him, because it’ll be Sunday service, which is never as frequent. He frowns, and reaches for a notebook, to copy down the times suggested.

His phone chimes, and Louis is proud of himself, for the way that he manages to not drop his pen, but instead steadfastly finishes copying down bus times before looking at it.

_ Sounds like a great ‘thing’! What sort of time were you thinking? And do you want picking up? _

Louis considers the offer of a ride for a long second, because that would possibly make his life easier, but ultimately decides against it.

_ Cool! About two? And thanks for the offer, but I’ve got a few things to pick up in town beforehand – you could give me a ride back if you were feeling generous? ;) _

Louis has his heart in his mouth for the solid three minutes that it takes for Harry to answer, because the winking face feels presumptuous the second after he presses send.

_ No problem – though if this thing turns out to be shit then you’ll be walking back ;) _

Louis laughs, and then covers his mouth, because it really isn’t funny at all, but this interaction is just making him feel a lot of happy feelings.

_ Deal, Harry. _

…

On Saturday afternoon, Cara gets a phone call from Harry.

“Hey Harry, what’s up?”

“Hi… could you just tell me that everything will be fine? I feel like I’m having a very low key panic attack.”

Cara smiles at nothing, and stands up from her desk, heading towards the window, where the reception is usually slightly better.

“Have your lips turned blue? That’s when a panic attack gets serious.”

There’s a pause, in which Cara can just imagine Harry pacing over to the mirror, and leaning in to peer at his reflection.

“No… they haven’t. That’s a good sign, right?”

The sky is just beginning to turn towards dusk out of Cara’s window. Cara wonders how much of the afternoon Harry has spent worrying his way into a tiny corner, and what has sparked the phone call, because even though they’re close, they usually do all communication via text.

“Yes, definitely. You’re going to be fine. What are you stressing about?”

Harry clears his throat, as though considering how to phrase his next statement.

“I’ve emptied out my entire closet, only to discover that I don’t own any clothes.”

Cara snorts.

“Oh well, that’s a lie. What do you need clothes for, apart from the general goal of maintaining your usual standards of modesty?”

“Need an outfit for outdoor possible date event during the day in a park type thing. Tomorrow.”

Harry announces this all in the rush, and Cara smiles to herself, because Harry is  _ so bad _ at acknowledging any kind of romance it his life, it is almost comical.

“Friday afternoon with Louis went well then, I presume?”

Harry sighs, and concedes a tiny bit more information.

“Yes. Really well. But now I need something to wear for tomorrow, and I don’t even know what people wear to go outside these days. I’ve ruled out my team kit, basically, but that is as far as I’ve got. And if you make a joke at this point, Car, I’ll never speak to you again.”

It’s an empty threat, but Cara does her best to not laugh, anyway.

“Well, what about that sweater we got at the mall, a couple of weeks ago? The burgundy one? If it is out doors, and during the day, then it isn’t going to be a major, get dressed up all fancy, thing. Nice sweater, skinny jeans, and sneakers, is what I’d do. And a jacket, in case it gets cold. Don’t over complicate things.”

Harry sighs restlessly down the phone line.

“Yeah, that’s kind of what I was thinking. But then I started panicking that I’d misread, somehow, and should be turning up in a suit.”

Cara does laugh at that, and Harry joins in after a second, and Cara can tell that some of the tension is easing out of him.

“So, you like Louis, then? Enough to face the outdoors for him.”

Harry groans slightly, at the question, but then answers with a firm “Yeah, I do. Which is weird, but yeah. I actually found someone I like. Who doesn’t seem like an asshole.”

Cara whoops vaguely, and then says “Progress. Well done Styles.”

“Yeah, at least that isn’t the massive problem.”

Cara frowns, and looks away from her street, at her room, where the rota for the next week training sessions are pinned up on her noticeboard.

“Stop making things into massive problems before they’ve become massive problems. Everyone has all done some growing up since then.”

Harry sighs, and sounds distracted when he answers.

“Some of us more than others. But yeah, I guess you’re right. I like Louis, so…”

Cara nods.

“Exactly. That’s all you need to think about, right now.”

…

Harry thinks that he might be panicking.

He sometimes isn’t very good at spotting when he panics. There have been times at a track meet when Harry was certain that he was panicking, and the nerves were definitely about to affect his performance, and then he’d pull off a personal best, or a season’s best.

His coach thinks that nerves raise his performance- he’s always saying that. He calls the nerves  _ adrenaline _ , and tries to convince him that he should welcome the sensation.

Harry thinks that maybe the coach has never felt nerves, because surely no one in their right mind could  _ welcome  _ this sensation. Harry feels numb, somehow. Whilst also feeling like every nerve is jangling.

Clearing his throat, Harry re-crosses his knees, and tucks his hands underneath his thighs, pressing them into the wooden bench that he is sitting on. He’s only been waiting five minutes, having turned up three minutes early. Harry worries that if he has to wait ten then he’ll be almost too nervous to function.

“Hey! Sorry, you haven’t been waiting long, have you?”

Harry almost breathes out a sign of relief, because what he needs is a distraction from himself, and when he is with Louis, Harry finds that he doesn’t think of anything else other than  _ being with Louis _ .

“No, only a couple of minutes - hi! Good to see you.”

…

 

They spend some time wandering around the stalls- there are several food stands, and all the conflicting aromas means that Louis feels as though his taste buds might be vaguely schizophrenic; no sooner does he manages to quell a craving for a donut, and suddenly they’re next to a barbeque, and that’s a whole new challenge.

Harry and him drift around happily for an hour or so, talking about nothing much beyond the contents of the stalls, and who they would buy various items for in their classes. It doesn’t fully work, because their social circles don’t really overlap, but it does mean that Louis learns a great deal about some of the other people on the track team, just as Harry learns about Louis' friends.

Besides, Louis thinks he is learning alot about Harry too, from the way he describes people, and the way his hands with snake around without purpose in the air, when he is really animated.

A small part of Louis' brain notices that, even though it doesn’t sound like Harry would actually consider many people on the track team as being his  _ close _ friend, none of them actively sound like the jerks that Liam describes them as. But then again, he guesses that it is all down to perspective. Louis' definitely seen some of the older girls on the track team throwing their weight around in the school corridors, acting like they own the place.

Harry nods a few times, when Louis mentions this cautiously, because he’s not fully sure how team solidarity works in the track squad.

“Yeah, some of them think school is their own personal kingdom. The current seniors are a lot more civilized than they used to be though; when I first joined the senior year were all assholes. I nearly left.”

Louis grunts in sympathy, and wants to ask more, but something about Harry’s tone sounds like he doesn’t want any follow up questions in that area, so Louis leaves it.

The sun in warm on his forearms, and Louis wonders if it genuinely always is sunny when he is around Harry, or if it is just that being around Harry makes him feel like the sun is shining.

There’s a lot of noise though, and some small kids running around, being chased by hassled looking parents, and it isn’t exactly the peace and quiet that Louis was hoping for, with Harry.

“Hey, do you want to sit for a bit? I brought a blanket. We could go up that way, towards the trees - bit of shade and quiet there.”

Louis worries immediately afterwards that he is sounding like a grumpy old woman, but Harry just smiles at him, and squints up towards where Louis pointed.

“Yeah, I’d like that - I can stop pretending that I’m interested in all the crap on these stalls.”

Louis laughs loudly in surprise, and then claps a hand over his mouth, looking around in case Harry’s announcement has offended someone. Nobody is paying them any attention though, and that is exactly how Louis wants it to be.

“I’m offended on all the stall owners behalf, for the record.”

“Oh please.”

…

It’s nice, up by the tree line. The noise of the park is muted, and the hill they’ve just climbed means that they can see all the way to the ocean. Louis stands with his hands on his hips, for a moment, taking in the view, and glances at Harry once, smiling.

“Perfect.”

Harry is inclined to agree.

Louis does have a blanket, and then produces some bottles of soda from his bag, followed by some sandwiches from a deli that Harry vaguely recognizes from downtown. Louis doesn’t quite meet his eye, and instead shrugs a bit, looking hesitant.

“I didn’t…I just thought that we could…”

Harry can see the blush building on Louis' cheeks, and so makes it easy, flopping down on the blanket and picking up one of the packets to assess the contents.

“This is cool. Um. Really cool. No one’s ever- I mean; thanks Louis.”

Louis shrugs a couple of times, mumbling ‘It’s just some sandwiches’, but it really isn’t, anymore. Not for Harry. It is a date, and Louis has put careful thought into it, and the entire thing is making Harry’s heart perform strange cliched somersaults, in his chest.

They sit there, and then, after a while, when the position becomes uncomfortable, they lie there. The conversation ambles between nothing and everything topics, as Harry lets his smile grow wider and the distance between Louis' hand and his own seems to diminish. Louis starts point out which clouds look like various shapes, with apparently no sense of irony whatsoever, and Harry joins in, after a moment, pointing at a shapeless mass.

“That one looks like… the feeling of shock that you get when you miss a step while descending the stairs.”

Louis snorts, and then laughs for a moment, and Harry twists his head around, to watch Louis' profile, the way that his nose scrunches up when he’s amused.

“Oh sure…and that one looks like…the tone of voice a teacher uses when they’re disappointed in you.”

“Yup, definitely. And that’s- the smell of new sneakers.”

Louis twists on one side, and looks at Harry, for a moment, and Harry has to bite his lip slightly, and look away, because Louis' eyes are too much. Louis points upwards, not even looking at where his finger is directed.

“That one is… the feeling I get when a pretty boy smiles at me.”

Harry smiles despite himself, and glances once at the sky, before sitting up to hug his knees and peer down at Louis.

“Yeah?… Do you get that alot; pretty boys smiling at you?”

Louis rolls onto his back, and props his head up on his hands, smiling widely.

“Not really - today has been a good day for it though.”

Harry is aware that he is blushing, as a direct response to this flirting, but he doesn’t really mind letting Louis know that he is into it.

“You are shameless.”

Louis shrugs, looking quite happy to be called out on it.

“I know.”

Louis' too far away to kiss, at the moment, and Harry needs to figure out how to get around that, because he really wants to kiss him.

“Come here.”

Harry struggles to not look surprised with himself, immediately after his instruction, because that was very direct and he didn’t know that he could do that. Louis complies, after a moment of just staring up at Harry, and props himself up on his hands.

“Hi- I’m here.”

Harry nods, and then looks away, out over the view, because this is the first time that he’s even attempted to kiss a boy and god knows there is no instruction manual.

So he says the first thing on his mind.

“I’ve never kissed a boy before.”

Louis makes a funny noise, and then clears his throat.

“No, um. Neither have I.”

Harry turns to him, aware that he is frowning as if he is trying to solve a complicated algebra problem, but not sure how to adjust his expression.

“But, you are gay, right? I haven’t completely misjudged this?”

Louis nods, and Harry can tell that Louis is looking at his mouth.

“Yeah, um. Really gay, right now. And… but- you? You are-?”

Harry nods, anxious to get this out of the way and out in the open.

“Um. Bi. I think. But yeah, feeling pretty gay, at this particular moment.”

How he is making this such hard work, Harry will never know. He can just picture Cara rolling his eyes, because somehow they are  _ still _ not kissing.

Louis licks his lips reflexively, and Harry is wobbling forward slightly, in response.

“Well, um. Maybe we should, um. Address that whole  _ never kissed a boy _ thing.”

Harry nods, and Louis is stuttering forward gingerly, until he is close enough that Harry knows that he can’t possibly have misread the situation. And then Harry leans in to meet him.

It’s a kiss.

Harry stays, pressed against Louis' mouth for a moment, so that his brain can catch up with events. And then Louis nudges at him, as if he is about to withdraw, and no, Harry doesn’t want it to be over now.

He kisses Louis, tilting his head until their mouths are aligned, and Louis' lips press against his, as gentle as a butterfly’s wings, again and again, until Harry thinks he might be floating away entirely.

He is kissing a boy. His  _ first  _ boy.

And it feels amazing.

…


	9. Chapter Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello! This is a very AU story. Everything is a lie.  
> Thank you for reading, kudos-ing, bookmarking, commenting, all of that stuff :)

Chapter Nine

“Oh my  _ god _ \- and then what happened? Details, Louis; you can’t just say  _ and then I kissed him _ .”

Louis clears his throat, feeling awkward, but also aware that he only called Eleanor because he wanted to talk about his day, so refusing information seems pretty counter-productive.

He does make some token effort towards reluctance, though.

“Eleanor, I’m calling you because I was hoping that you wouldn’t go all Zayn on me- I’m not giving you a comprehensive account of everything. We made out for a bit, you know. It was cool.”

Eleanor snorts, abruptly.

“Cool? Okay, cool, I’m glad it was cool. But like, there was no freak out? No disclaimers of experiments or mistakes being made? He didn’t run away, or anything?”

Louis gasps, mock-offended.

“Dude, how bad do you think my kissing skills are?”

Eleanor deadpans ‘really bad’ down the phone, and then breaks, laughing at her own joke, until Louis has to join in a bit, because Eleanor is just so daft, sometimes.

When Eleanor’s giggles subside, Louis thinks it might be safe to continue.

“No, but, it was good. Really good. Considering at the start of the date I wasn’t even sure it was a date, or Harry felt like that… yeah. It was really good. And then, you know, we talked some more, about how it was maybe a bit weird, but overall good. And then did some more kissing. And then it was time to go home. So Harry gave me a ride. In his car. That was good too.”

Eleanor makes a funny little noise down the phone, which sounds pretty close to an  _ aww _ , and then snarks ‘You know, talking about Harry really limits the breadth of your vocabulary. I’ve never heard you say  _ good _ so frequently in such a short space of time.”

Louis laughs, and lies back on his bed, aware that he is blushing but thankful that Eleanor can’t see it.

“Whatever. I didn’t call you for you to mock me.”

“What did you call me for then? So that I could say  _ well done _ ? Cause, yeah, that too. Well done. You lost your boy mouth virginity.”

Louis pulls an involuntary face, at that descriptor.

“You’re disgusting.”

Eleanor cackles.

“You’re cute. Look at you, kissing boys, like a real gay.”

“Oh what, because before I was a fictional gay?”

“No, but like, an amateur. And now you are a professional.”

Louis laughs despite himself, and then checks his phone screen, quickly, to see if Harry has messaged him. Nothing.

“Whatever. How long before I should text him? What are the rules, here?”

“Oh jeez, do you think I’m some kind of expert? I don’t know. Go with your gut. What did you say when you were getting out of his car?”

“Umm…” Louis wracks his brains, trying to remember, because at the time all that he could really focus on was the internal debate of whether to kiss Harry again. He’d decided against it, ultimately, but only because he was panicking about the garroting possibilities of a still locked seat belt, but unclicking the seat belt and then leaning across to kiss Harry felt presumptuous. “I think I said see you tomorrow. Because I will probably. School.”

Eleanor sounds like she has a hard time not sighing, and then says “Okay, that isn’t very romantic. So maybe send a message saying  _ sorry for being an idiot in the car _ . What made you freeze up?”

Louis shrugs, instantly regretful of his exit.

“I dunno, we were outside my house, I guess. Cramped my style.”

“Oh.” There’s a pause, as if Eleanor is just making a connection in her head, and then she asks cautiously “Have you mentioned this to your brother yet?”

“No. But, like, that isn’t weird, is it? It’s been one kiss - who immediately starts talking to their family about it?”

Eleanor makes a noncommittal noise, and then continues, as though there’s nothing to worry about.

“Well, all of that drama has blown over now, hasn’t it? Old news; Liam was kicking off about it at the start of our  _ freshman  _ year. He can’t still be pissed. Whatever it was about; did you ever get a straight answer out of him?”

“No- he never told me. And, um, yeah. He doesn’t bitch about the track team half as much as he used to, I guess.”

Louis doesn’t add that, when Liam does, it is with the same level of seemingly irrational distrust and dislike. Louis isn’t sure if the intensity has diminished at all. Just his brother’s need to talk about it.

“Well, there you go. Anyway, you don’t have to cross that bridge, yet. Figure out what you and Harry are, first of all. Figure out how to do more kissing.”

Louis nods, grateful for the deferral of a problem.

“Good idea.”

…

Cara is pretty impressed with herself. With her levels of self restraint.

She managed to not message Harry at all last night. Despite her near overwhelming need to say  _ see? I told you he liked you _ .

Because Cara doesn’t know for definitely that it went well, but she is pretty damn confident. Her gut, like Shakira’s hips, don’t lie.

So instead Cara cooly continued with her assignments for the upcoming week, making a silent resolution to not mention Harry’s Sunday until Harry is forced to bring it up. Just because if she knows Harry at all, Harry will be trying to downplay it.

It’s a nice day, for a Monday (which Cara knows doesn’t directly affect the weather, just she is sure that there must be some kind of positive correlation between Mondays and overcast days). Cara sits on the wall just opposite the school’s main entrance, waiting for Harry’s car to pull up. She kicks her heels out, briefly, feeling far younger, momentarily. School and exam pressure, though constant, hasn’t really reached a high gear yet, and her Monday schedule contains a number of lessons which Cara enjoys. Things could be worse.

The blue of Harry’s car appears in the corner of her eye, and then, a couple of minutes later, Harry comes strolling over to her, struggling with his usual assortment of folders, books, and kit bag.

“Hi.”

“Hi Harry; need a hand, or are you good?”

Harry declines the help, seeming to find and extra elbow to tuck some folders under, and then they head into the school building, slowly absorbing into the sea of students as the corridors get narrower, off the main entrance hall.

Cara is happily talking about the upcoming day, and asking a few questions about the Chem assignment which is due in the next day, because she had a look at it last night but hadn’t fully understood what she was supposed to do. Harry shrugs, before hitching everything up into a more secure position, so he can fumble at the catch on his locker.

“I don’t know; didn’t get a chance to look at it. Had a busy weekend.”

It is an invitation to ask if Cara ever heard one, but she smoothly ignores it, because she is quietly amused at the thought of Harry trying to figure out how to open a conversation about his and Louis' date.

So instead she just grunts, and then opens up her locker, relieving herself of most of the equipment in her arms.

“Yeah- I might have to go speak to Mr Mitchell, because nothing looks familiar on the page, you know…”

They register together, which means that Cara gets to continue to talk nothing as they share a desk. Harry fidgets with the edge of the table, nodding and humming vaguely, at the correct points in the conversation, but Cara can tell that he’s fraying at the edges.

A couple of minutes before the bell goes for first period, in a lull in the one sided discussion, Harry mumbles “I know what you are doing, by the way.”

Cara smiles widely at him, and then rests her chin on her hand, trying to look innocent.

“And what is that? Is there something that you wanted to discuss?”

Harry rolls his eyes, and then glances around at the rest of the class, who look to be occupied with each other and the full time job of ignoring their form teacher. But it doesn’t stop Harry from flicking to the back of one of his exercise books, and writing down some words rather than saying them out loud. Cara peers over, and then Harry shows her the message.

_ Me and Louis… _

Cara picks up the pencil, and plays along.

_ Yes? Question mark? _

Harry smirks, as if the victory comes with seeing that Cara wants to know the details, when  _ obviously _ the victory comes with seeing that Harry wants to  _ share  _ the details.

_ We made out _ .

Cara nods once, and then motions for the pencil, expression completely unchanging.

_ GASP! _

Harry breaks, at this point, and the two of them giggle loudly, drawing the attention of an uncomprehending class.

…

Louis is having a great day.

The sun is shining, everyone looks great, his classes are great, everything is great. Louis wouldn’t be surprized if world peace was declared by lunchtime.

He’s got a conversation on his phone which he re-read multiple times before going to sleep. One which is just between him and Harry, bouncing back and forth and generally not mentioning the fact that they had kissed, earlier that day, but also not  _ not _ mentioning, either. In fact, Louis knows that interpreting the tone of a text conversation is pretty difficult, and prone to mis-communication, but Louis is willing to bet all future kisses with Harry that if Harry had been in his room and they were having that conversation, about random things and nonsense, that it would have been interspersed with a  _ lot _ of making out too.

So of course he has got a pep in his step, because one of the many great things about having Harry’s number, is that now Louis can arrange to meet up with Harry. He doesn’t have to hope to run into him. It makes everything feel significantly easier, somehow.

Zayn pretty much straight up collides with him, during recess, and appears to be conflicted, because on one hand, he wants to kill Louis for not telling him first, but on the other hand, murdering Louis means that all hopes of hearing what happened are dashed.

He settles for pinching Louis' side hard, before leaning past him to pick up a tray for his food, mumbling “You didn’t think that Eleanor would keep it a secret from me, did you?”

Louis shrugs, because no, the concept didn’t even cross his mind. Telling Eleanor is telling Zayn. Telling Zayn is telling Eleanor. It was a given that Eleanor would fill Zayn in.

“No, not at all- I just didn’t want to do the de-brief twice.”

Zayn clicks his tongue at him, and then slides into the queue next to Louis, casually ignoring the freshmen behind him.

“He’s gay then? We’ll assume yes, if you were making out with him.”

“It is strong evidence, yes.”

Zayn snorts.

“Yes, correct. Are we all keeping this a secret then? For various reasons?”

Louis shrugs, and then looks down at his sneakers, because he hadn’t really gotten around to thinking about that.

“I suppose - that’s probably a good idea. Until we’ve figured out, you know, what is happening, exactly.”

“Yeah, that too. Also, Liam.”

There’s a half twist in Louis' gut, which he tries to repress, because his brother can’t be that bothered about it. This isn’t Elizabethan England, with all the offended honor and family loyalties, for god’s sake. Besides, Liam only has a problem with the track team in a general sense. If he just got to know Harry…

Louis can’t imagine anyone having a problem with Harry, who is possibly the most lovely person that Louis has ever met.

Besides, he is having a  _ good  _ day.

“Yeah- I’ll figure something out. It’ll be fine.”

…

He doesn’t  _ specifically _ go and wait by Harry’s locker, as such.

It’s just that his next class is on this corridor, and so being early is just a sign of diligence on his part. Because education is important to him.

Education  _ isn’t  _ important to Zayn, as far as he can tell, but it doesn’t stop him from following Louis, and trying to lurk in the corridor, as if he is taking part in some kind of stake out. Louis had to swat at him with a pretty heavy textbook before he would leave.

After a couple of minutes of trying to figure out what the most casual way to stand is, and then another couple of minutes of frantic self analysis about whether this counts as vaguely stalkery behaviour, Louis manages to distract himself on his phone, because in his head that makes things seem less potent for embarrassment.

Luckily, this corridor isn’t a main route through school, so there aren’t many students around, which means that when Harry does round the corner there isn’t an audience.

Harry is wearing this big gray sweater that Louis now associates with training schedules, and smiles shyly at him, before opening his locker.

“You’re a bit early, aren’t you?”

Louis shrugs, because yes, guilty, and shifts on the locker, so that he is looking at Harry, and the skin at the insides of his wrists, and the stray wisps of hair at the nape of his neck.

“Yeah- my watch broke.”

Harry snorts, and then murmurs “You don’t wear a watch.”

Louis glances at his own wrist, and then jumps, as if the lack of the watch has startled him.

“What the fuck?”

Harry laughs loudly at that, and then clamps a hand over his mouth, looking around to check that he isn’t drawing any attention to himself. Louis smiles at him, feeling warm.

“I like hearing your laugh.”

“Oh god, don’t, my laugh is completely crazy…”

“Yeah; I like it.”

After gathering a couple of books, Harry closes his locker, and looks at Louis for a moment, scrunching up his nose as he tries to hide a smile.

“Whatever. Shut up.”

Louis watches, looking at the way that Harry’s eyes glance down at his lips, just briefly. It’s crazy, but…

“Make me.”

There’s a change in the air, and maybe it is just Louis' imagination, but Harry does wobble forward for a second, before seeming to catch himself and look over his shoulder, to where the corridor is empty for the moment, but not  _ reliably  _ so.

“Send me lots of stupid messages again tonight - I’ve got assignments and will need distracting, so-”

Harry blushes, the moment the request is out of his mouth, as if he is somehow imposing on Louis, as if Louis wants to do anything other than message back and forth with Harry all night.

“Course. And you’ll have to make me shut up another time.”

Harry shrugs, before reaching out his hand, and touching briefly at the spot on Louis wrist where a watch would be, if he owned such a thing. Harry’s fingers are warm, and Louis is on the verge of turning inside out.

“I’d like that.”

Louis nods, and gulps, and Harry takes a couple of steps back, grinning.

“In fact, I’d probably doing a favor for the wider society.”

The struggle to not rush after Harry and kiss him hard is so overwhelming that it takes a moment for Louis to realize that he is being insulted.

“Hey!”

Harry reads it all in his eyes, of course, and smiles.

“Looking forward to it.”

…


	10. Chapter Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello! This is a very AU story. Everything is a lie.  
> Thank you for reading, kudos-ing, bookmarking, commenting, all of that stuff :)
> 
> (Next part will be up later this week)

Louis watches Liam, over dinner that night.

His brother eats with both elbows on the table, because their parents aren’t home yet. His brown hair is messy and ruffled, and he is wearing his standard enormous sweater which Liam always seems to automatically change into when he gets home from school.

Liam always sits closest to the refrigerator, whereas Louis' seat is to his left, opposite the sink. When Louis was younger, he occasionally used to request a swap of seats, because Liam’s spot next to the refrigerator meant that he could easily sneak out a new can of soda if their parents were distracted. Liam had talked him out of it, because his arms were longer, and if Louis poked Liam, then that could be their secret code for  _ get me another one too _ .

The system worked well, until their mom had figured out why the soda seemed to disappear so quickly, and moved it to the fridge in the garage. But the seating pattern stuck. And as Louis grew up, he realized that it meant that Liam would automatically clear Louis' place for him, placing the plate in the sink and rinsing it without any questions.

It strikes Louis as funny that, despite him now being fully capable of rinsing his own dishes, Liam still does it for him.

“So; what do you think?”

Louis shrugs, because Liam had been telling him about some dispute within the football team. From what Louis can gather, a sophomore who has just started this year is turning out to be really talented, and on merit should be on the first squad. But other members who have been in the squad for longer feel like they have earned the right to be there, or whatever is being fought for. There’s a lot of hierarchy and power plays in the football team that Louis doesn’t fully understand. Some days it sounds more complex than the Game of Thrones plot line.

“I think you should go on talent - that’s how things work in the professional world. Try and give whoever is going to be upset some other kind of status symbol - can they help design a play with you?  Or something?”

Liam nods, licking the back of his spoon in way that reminds Louis of younger times.

“Yeah, I was thinking go with the talent. Good call on the design a play thing though. You should go into management, with your never-ending desire to keep everyone happy.”

Louis shrugs, because there are worse ethical formulas than  _ keep everyone happy _ . He’ll take it.

“Not sure I’d be any good at the  _ putting my foot down _ side of things. I’d need you there for that.”

Liam shrugs, leaning backwards and retrieving a couple of yogurts from the refrigerator, sliding one over towards Louis.

“Co-managers; I’m into that. I can be the executive ball crusher that you call in every now and then, dragging me away from my jet set lifestyle.”

Louis laughs, mainly at the idea of Liam in a business suit, and taps on the top of his yogurt with the back of his spoon, out of habit.

“Thanks - I’ll take it upstairs though. I’ve got assignments to do.”

Liam rolls his eyes, smiling, and then gets up.

“You always have assignments to do, Little Mr Honor Roll; but sure. Come down later so that I know you haven’t died up there.”

Louis flips him off, mumbling his usual line about education being important, but then before he can move, Liam is up, and has removed his used plate from under his nose.

“Hey, um, you always do that- let me do it this time.”

Liam shrugs, already elbow deep in dishwater.

“Nah, it is nothing, besides, doing this only bites into my ‘sitting on the couch’ time; wouldn’t want to interrupt your study time.”

Louis comes around his side, hopefully putting some glasses on the side, in an attempt to be useful.

“No but, you  _ always  _ do it, here; I can…”

Liam gives him a funny look, and then shakes his head.

“I’ve nearly done them already Lou - it’s a big brother thing. Big brothers look after little brothers.”

“Liam, it is two plates.”

“So why won’t you let me do them? Stop neglecting your studies, for god’s sake.”

Louis can tell that this is one that he isn’t going to be allowed to win, and instead impulsively tips up onto his toes, to kiss Liam on the cheek.

“Thanks Li.”

“Will you get out of here; it’s just t _ wo plates _ \- I’m allowed to wash your plate without a sudden outburst of love!”

…

Louis does manage to get his assignments done in a reasonably productive manner.

He always tries to get things done on the day that they are set, because that way if something comes up then at least he is ahead, rather than having to face a crisis of an incomplete assignment, the next day. And maybe Liam would shrug it off, and point out the obvious by saying that a detention really isn’t the end of the world, but Louis isn’t his brother, and so would like to avoid all detentions, if at all possible.

Besides, he is usually pretty good at completing his work quickly, because Louis can zone out all other distractions. Nothing gets through.

Except for tonight, because tonight Harry is getting through.

Louis is still managing though- he’s told Harry that he is working, and so any delayed response on his part is because he doesn’t allow himself to look at his phone until he’s completed a problem. Harry had responded with a predictable  _ okay, dork _ but there had been a smiling face at the end of it, so Louis thinks that they understand each other.

So far they have just been messaging back and forth about school, and which mutual friends they have (surprisingly few) and mutual teachers they have experienced. Louis doesn’t remember if he has ever made a friend like this, when all of the information has to happen at once, as if it is some kind of race. But then he remembers that  _ friends _ isn’t really what he is aiming for here.

But then the next message from Harry changes the tone a bit, and Louis automatically sits back in his chair, dropping his pen and giving his phone his full attention.

_ btw - can I ask a favor? _

Louis waits to see if Harry is going to explain what the favor is, but there isn’t any sign of Harry typing, so Louis relents, and types out a quick  _ sure thing _ ,  before waiting to see Harry’s response.

_ I know you probably haven’t, but please don’t mention this to people. _

Louis frowns, and then checks that he hasn’t misunderstood.

_ This? _

There is a long pause before he gets any reply, and Louis nearly picks up his pen again, nearly goes downstairs to get a drink, nearly opens up his window for some air, nearly does a lot of things but ends up just watching his phone, waiting for Harry to start typing again.

_ Sorry- forget I said anything. _

What? Louis frowns at his phone, and then throws a healthy dose of honesty at the conversation, because that is what he is good at.

_ Do you mean you and me talking? Or you and me kissing? _

Louis nearly doesn’t send it, because the kiss in the park hasn’t been referred to since, but Louis really needs to have a conversation about that at some point, because even though it has only been twenty four hours Louis' understanding of the passage of time has been fragile at best, since Harry put his lips on his.

Harry replies with a  _ yeah, that. Both of those.  _ Louis blinks at the screen, before scrolling up to check what started all this.

_ Umm, well, I can tell no more people, but I’ve already told a couple of my friends. Don’t worry though, they are really good a secret keeping. I trust them. _

Harry’s response comes more quickly this time, and Louis can feel a pressure in his chest start to lessen.

_ Sorry, that’s fine, of course! I’ve told Cara, cause I trust her. Sorry to be so weird for a moment. _

Louis wants to drop it, and instead maybe talk a little bit about how good kissing Harry was, but things still aren’t quite making sense in his head.

_ So you want this to be a secret. For now? _

_ Yeah, I just… wow, sorry, I’m just assuming that we are a thing, this is embarrassing, but umm - if we do turn into a thing, I don’t really want the whole school to know, I guess. _

Louis turns his phone over a couple of times in his hands, trying to figure out what he wants to say in reply.

_ I guess so. Don’t worry about it. But, is this about you not wanting to be out? Or? _

As Louis waits, he realizes that she has no idea why they are trying to do this via message; he should have just called Harry, the second that he asked for a favor, that would have made everything far more obvious.

_ Not really that- I just don’t want the whole school talking about me. _

Louis purses his lips, because he doubts that would happen.

_ Would you and me really be that interesting? _

Harry’s reply is almost instant.

_ To some people. _

Something about the pixels makes it obvious that one of the people Harry is thinking of is sitting downstairs, watching television and wondering where his little brother has gotten to.

But the more Louis thinks about it, the more he can’t believe that Liam would have a problem. Harry isn’t arrogant, or self centred, or any of the things that Liam claims to hate about the track team. And Liam was just talking about being his protective big brother. He wouldn’t… he wouldn’t.

But that is definitely a conversation for face to face.

Louis realizes that in the time it has taken him to process that thought, Harry has started typing again.

_ I would like a you and me, if my tendency for sending really weird messages isn’t putting you off? _

Louis sees through the attempt at humor with ease.

_ Yeah. Me too. _

It doesn’t feel like enough.

_ Specifically you and me kissing. _

Louis likes that he now knows Harry’s laugh well enough to imagine his giggle at receiving that message.

_ Presumptuous, much? ;) _

_ What? You are the one who straight-up assumed that I would talk about you? _

_ Imagine me flipping off my phone right now, Louis… _

Louis laughs, and then quickly covers his mouth, because he supposed to be doing school work and school work does not make him laugh.

…

Harry had worried that his really weird message to Louis would cause a problem.

He had spent the entire evening building up to it, because he really needed to know that Louis wasn’t planning on telling everyone, but on the other hand Harry didn’t want it to look like he was embarrassed about the possibility of him and Louis, because that was very much not the case.

And then when he’d sent it he had automatically panicked, and it was only when Louis started joking about kissing him that he had started breathing easily again.

Turns out that even considering the possibility of dating Liam Tomlinson’s little brother was enough to give Harry heart palpitations. And is even without Liam knowing that Harry is considering it.

The whole thing feels like hard work.

He mentions this the following day, to Cara, because Harry tells Cara everything, and also because he thinks Cara might be smarter than him, when it comes to this sort of thing (and many other sorts of thing).

“Wait- you tried to cover all of that subject by text message? You didn’t even try and call?”

Harry shrugs, because no he did not, because hiding behind pixels had felt easier at the time.

“I… once we were into it I couldn’t randomly switch to phone call half way through. Anyway, it was over really quickly.”

Cara rolls his eyes, before patting Harry on the head, twice.

“It’s at times like this that I am reminded that you have never had a successful relationship.”

“Sorry, I’d forgotten about the fact that you are  _ married _ , apparently.”

Cara snorts quietly at him, before looking up to check that their illicit conversation at the back of the Chemistry lab has gone undetected.

“But at least I would have picked up the phone - when are you seeing him again?”

Harry shrugs, making a show of holding a petri dish up to the light.

“No plan- I’ll probably see him in a corridor at some point today…”

Harry nearly mentions his half formed idea of returning the compliment, and going to wait near Louis' locker, but he has a feeling that because Louis' locker is in a busy part of school the chances of Liam seeing him and striking up a catty conversation are far higher. But before he can express all of this, Cara holds a hand up.

“Okay, the moment that this class is over, I would  _ strongly  _ recommend messaging him and inviting him somewhere outside of school again. Because Louis did the last one and so it is your turn, and also because your little messaging move would have made him worried about whether you were actually serious, and so-”

“Cara, do you not think you are over-thinking this?”

Cara gives him a look of extreme bafflement, before laughing.

“Harry Styles, accusing someone of over-thinking? Wow. No I do not. Also, just do it because you want to see him again - stop making everything so complicated.”

Harry shrugs, and then nods, because when it is put like that things sound far more simple.

“I’ll ask him tonight.”

…

_ Hey :) Do you want to go to that cafe again, after school Friday? _

Louis reads the message from Harry, and then has to restrain himself from doing a small sitting dance, on the couch, because Liam is at the other end of it.

_ Sure, definitely. I’d really like that. _

_ Cool- same sort of plan as last time? _

Louis sends back a reply confirming, and then tucks his phone into his pocket, because he feels like Liam is watching him.

Wait; there’s a problem, that’s why Louis is paranoid.

“Um, Li, I don’t need a ride home from school after all, on Friday.”

Liam glances at him, and then shrugs.

“No problem - why the change of plan?”

Louis bites at his lip, because he should have thought of an alibi, rather than just launching into that.

“Uhh… it’s James’ mom’s birthday coming up; I said that I’d go help him pick something out. I’ll get a bus back.”

Liam gives him an easy thumbs up, looking completely unconcerned, as Louis' heart races in his chest.

“Good job; makes sure he picks her something expensive - that boy is lovely and his mom deserves to be rewarded for raising such an individual.”

Louis nods, hardly hearing, and fiddles with the jagged edge of his thumbnail, nervous.

It is the first out and out lie Louis thinks he has told his brother.

It doesn’t feel good.

 


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello. This is an AU fanfiction. Nothing is real.  
> Thank you for reading, kudos-ing, commenting, bookmarking, all that fun stuff :)

It’s raining, which is unusual in the afternoon. The city’s weather pattern is normally that the morning is misty, and any rain which is going to happen occurs then, meaning Liam is continuously reminded about his not fully functioning windscreen wipers on the way to school.

But this Friday the weather has decided to save itself for the post school slot, and that combined with the increased chill in the air means that he takes the executive decision to move football training indoors, into the gymnasium.

Liam tries to avoid training in the gym at all costs, because it’s stuffy and quite small. However the rest of the team seem pretty happy, so he goes along with it.

The indoor environment is good for one reason however - the track team have to stay outside, in the rain. Which means that Liam doesn’t have to feel like he is being sanctimoniously glared at the entire goddamn time.

(Niall tells him that he is being paranoid. And maybe he is, because no one in their right mind would still care about something that happened two years ago. But then he’ll get a dirty look in a corridor, and all of his defenses will kick in again. Because high school seems to be so relentlessly  _ high school _ , these days.)

They get through the session without anyone breaking anything (standard), and also none of the younger guys getting frustrated (less standard, with the recent rearrange of roles). Liam thinks they might all have gotten their heads around it, at last.

Niall waves at him, and jogs on ahead, because he is getting picked up to visit the optometrist. Liam waves back at him, and then bends, trying to stretch his muscles out fully to avoid lactic acid being a bitch later on.

When he straightens up, the new kid on the team, Nick, is standing in front of him.

“Hi!”

“Whoa- hi! Christ, you nearly scared the shit out of me.”

Nick looks contrite, and takes a careful step backwards.

“Sorry… just wanted to say thanks for the position you gave me- I get the slight impression that there was some competition for it.”

Liam tries but fails to repress the eyeroll which the memory of all those angry huffs brings out of him.

“Yeah, you could say that- but you are talented, so it makes sense to use that talent.”

Nick tips his head to one side, and shrugs. Liam indicates at the last practice post next to him, and Nick moves around, so that he can pick up the other ends and they can return it to the store room.

“Well, you know- other people might have gone for the simple option and just stuck to the status quo, for an easy life. So thank you for not doing that.”

Liam tosses the post on top of the pile with a grunt, and then dusts his hands off.

“You can thank my brother; he convinced me to go with the talent. But did you play football, in your last school? You clearly know what you are doing.”

Nick nods, keeping pace with him towards the entrance. Liam waves at the last couple of footballers to still be clearing their stuff, in the universal signal for  _ come the fuck on, I haven’t got all day _ . They take the hint, and wrap up their conversation. Nick clears his throat, and continues.

“I did, I was on a local team, before my family moved. I can’t say I miss it though. Too much drama for me, really.”

“What, so you thought you’d join our team? Wow. Mistake.”

Nick laughs abruptly, in an infectious giggle that has Liam smiling.

“You guys don’t seem so bad. I’ve seen worse.”

Liam shrugs, smiling, because he really doesn’t want to get into all of that now. Instead, a thought strikes him.

“Hey, you’re in sophomore, right?  My brother is too. Do you know him?”

Nick runs a hand through his hair, as he apparently runs through a mental checklist of his acquaintances.

“Mmm, I don’t think so - I’m still not sure of the name of lots of the people in my class though, so…”

Liam holds the door open for him, letting the other boy walk through.

“Oh, you’d have spotted him if you are in a class. He’s called Louis. Knows all the answers. Has an unfortunate thing for snapbacks, which I’m hoping he is going to grow out of.”

Nick claps a hand to his forehead in recognition.

“Shit, yes, of course. Louis Tomlinson. Liam Tomlinson. Yeah, he’s in my History group.”

Liam snorts at him, because why people are still surprised by this he’ll never know.

“Yeah, you goddamn weirdo. The clue is in the surnames.”

Nick has the decency to look embarrassed, but Liam is hardly going to blame him.

“Sorry- you don’t seem much alike.”

Liam sighs at him, before grinning to let him know it is a joke.

“Lucky I have an ego made of pure steel, or my sense of self would be through the floor. No, I know, Louis is actually a good boy.”

Nick waggles his eyebrows at Liam, in the gayest move Liam thinks he’s pulled so far.

“And you are such a  _ bad _ boy.”

Liam strike a pose briefly, and then relaxes.

“I own it. But yeah, you should say hi. If you want people who are completely drama free. He’s really friendly. You guys have got a lot in common.”

Nick waggles his head slightly, before pausing, next to the door of the boys changing room.

“Lots in common? All the gays together, you mean?”

“Whatever. Yes. Something like that. Or are you about to declare allegiance to the planet straight?”

Laughing, Nick looks at him over his shoulder.

“You monster. But okay, I’ll say hi sometime. Warn him that he has an incoming gay on his radar.”

Liam flips him off, whilst simultaneously deciding that he likes him.

“Will do, Captain Queer.”

…

James has decided that this whole ‘boy from the track team’ situation that Louis has got going on is making him pretty weird.

A couple of days ago he’d made him swear that he wouldn’t tell anyone about the strange, half thing that is going on between him and Harry. To which James had shrugged, because he wasn’t sure that he knew anyone who cared, other than Zayn and Eleanor, and they already knew.

“Sure thing” he’d said, as Louis hopped from foot to foot and generally looked shifty. “Is this because of Harry? Because you know that everyone already knows that you are gay.”

Louis had shrugged.

“Yeah, it’s not really… I mean it is kind of that, but… I don’t really know, to be honest. But nothing is really officially happening yet, so I didn’t want people to know if it wasn’t even going to be a  _ thing _ -”

James had held up a hand in a gesture of dismissal, and had assured Louis that he wouldn’t be telling anyone, and then had tried to steer the conversation towards a subject that didn’t look as though it gave Louis an irregular breathing pattern.

That had been a couple of days ago. And now today, as James is pulling out his books from his locker for his weekend studies, Louis is by his elbow again, looking worried  _ again _ .

“Hey Lou - what’s the worry this time?”

Louis juts out his bottom lip at being read so easily, and then runs a hand through his hair, glancing down the corridor as though the possibility of him being tailed is a very real one.

“So, I nearly didn’t mention this to you, because I figured that the odds of you ever having a conversation with my brother are close to zero, and secrets are easier to keep with fewer people in on them, at least, that’s what I read, I’ve been doing some research on it, its actually a pretty interesting field of psychology, once you get past all the jargon about guilt complexes…”

James raises his eyebrows, and Louis becomes aware that he is talking nonsense, and gets to the point.

“Anyway, you don’t need to know all that, but, the point is, I’m kind of using you as an alibi after school, if that is okay? I mean, if it isn’t, then there isn’t much I can do about it, because I already told Liam that you were the reason that I didn’t need a ride tonight…”

Louis trails off unhappily, and then looks up at him, hopeful.

“Any chance you could play along, if Liam did ask you?”

James shrugs, and nods, because Louis is correct, the chances of him ever having a conversation with Liam are really low.

“Yeah, no problem- although maybe talk to Harry about how to avoid  _ everything _ being a secret? Cause you are really bad at them. Just so you know.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m trying to think of this as an opportunity to build a life skill.”

James smiles down at him, and pushes the conversation forward before Louis can develop a guilt complex, or whatever he’s been reading about.

“You and Harry then, huh?  That’d be cool. I mean, I barely know Harry, but I figure you must have pretty high standards in the people you like.”

Louis smiles, and gestures at him.

“Obviously, otherwise I wouldn’t be friends with you, would I?”

James laughs at him, before miming a dry heave, because feelings are gross.

“Whatever. But yeah, have a good time. Oh, and you might want to talk about how tone down the random locker stalking, the pair of you. The number of times I’ve seen Harry by your locker, or you by his, is a bit blatant, maybe?”

“Hey - we do have classes in those bits of the buildings; we aren’t just there to see each other.”

James slides out one last folder, and then closes his locker.

“Well. Okay. I mean, it’s obviously fine. I just thought I’d mention it, if you are aiming for complete secrecy- people not in the know might start to spot.”

Louis sobers, and then nods, seriously.

“Okay, good call. I’ll mention it.”

James pats him on the shoulder, once, smiling.

“Have fun, then. Tell Harry your alibi said hi.”

…

Louis feels weirdly nervous.

(Weirdly? Really? There are about a million legitimate reasons to be nervous; all of the standard ones to do with dates, and then  _ on top of that _ the panic about being seen by someone from school, or Liam finding out somehow, even though Louis still doesn’t fully understand why he has to hide it from Liam, but Harry seems to want it, so here they are.)

He takes a moment to draw a steadying mental breath before pushing open the door, because he’d like to not completely freak Harry out with his tendency for over analysis. Louis tugs at his sweater once, checking that it is sitting correctly, and then enters the cafe.

The woman behind the counter recognizes him, and smiles warmly, and Louis waves back, before registering that Harry isn’t sitting at a table, but instead on a stool at the counter. Harry must notice that the server greeted a new customer, because he turns, and then grins at Louis, who smiles shyly in return, and wanders over to him.

“Hey- no table today? You wanted to get a better look at all the cakes instead?”

Harry snorts, and then jumps down from his perch.

“No, you weirdo, although they do look great. But, uh, I thought maybe we could get coffee and whatever to go?”

Louis nods, possibly too quickly, because as much as he likes the idea of sitting and sharing a coffee with Harry and communicating in a way which isn’t a text conversation, or a snatched moment of time next to locker, the idea of maybe being  _ by themselves _ to do that sounds even better.

“Sounds good, here, let me…”

“No, it’s my turn, and don’t even try and fight it, because I’ve explained to Annie that you would try to pay, and she is completely on my side and will refuse to serve you and also maybe call the police…?”

Harry’s intonation becomes a question at the end of his sentence, and he trails off while glancing over to Annie, who gives him a funny look in response.

“I will not be doing that. But Harry has convinced me about everything else. So put your money away, and what will you be having?”

…

Harry is pretty pleased with his cunning plan.

Because despite not choosing to  _ scour  _ the internet for an appropriate event that he and Louis could go to on a late Friday afternoon, this still ticks all the right boxes.

Him and Louis, by themselves. It really doesn’t need to be more complicated than that, Harry decides.

So they get into his car, and Louis carefully balances their drinks and the paper bag containing their cakes on his knee, and then Harry starts the ignition.

“Where are we going?”

“I thought… there’s this viewing point, about fifteen minutes drive out, that my parents used to take me and my sister up to whenever they decided that we’d both spent too much time on the internet and needed to look at something that wasn’t pixelated.”

Louis smiles, and then nods, before peering up at the sky.

“Okay, cool- although it is kind of misty. And it is going to be getting dark pretty soon.”

Harry shrugs, because yes, he had factored that into his calculations.

“Yeah, I know- I figured that would mean there wouldn’t be many people around.”

Louis nods, and then Harry can see out of the corner of his eye that Louis is smiling.

“Cool.”

…

The viewing point is down a poorly maintained track, and surrounded by trees, but at the end there is an empty parking lot, and space for about ten vehicles. Harry kills the engine, and then looks at Louis expectantly.

So, Louis can see nothing of the view. Heavy cloud hangs over the landscape, and although Louis knows that the ocean is out there somewhere, he’s going to have to take his logic’s word for it.

“Nice choice Styles.”

Harry laughs at him, and then gets out of the car, in a move that Louis had not anticipated, and heads to sit on his front bumper, making the car shift on its suspension. He turns and waves at Louis, gesturing him out to join him. Louis follows instructions, and rests the paper bag and their coffees on the hood of Harry’s car, before sitting next to him.

Harry waves a vague hand out towards the cloud.

“Ta dah.”

Louis snorts, and shifts position, trying to get comfy (and closer to Harry).

“Good thing I’m not here for the view.”

Harry looks away, biting his lip and then smiling.

“No? What are you here for, then?”

Louis shrugs a couple of times, trying to think of a witty comeback.

“Coffee?”

It hardly counts as witty, but it seems to do the trick regardless, because Harry laughs at him, before turning towards him, resting his chin on his hand.

“God, you are so dumb.”

Insults really shouldn’t be making Louis feel hot and cold and happy all over, but he’ll go with it.

“Sorry.”

“No you’re not.”

Louis giggles at being called out so abruptly, and then sobers, because Harry is very close and  _ very  _ kissable right now.

Some part of his distracted mind tries to call his attention to important matters of business.

“There were, umm, there’s a few things we need to talk about, I think.”

Harry is looking at his mouth, and then nods vaguely.

“Yeah, agreed.”

Louis is looking at Harry’s mouth, because there is nowhere else to look that doesn’t require immense willpower. Harry mouth moves again, after a moment.

“Do you think, we could talk about it, after?”

Louis glances up to Harry’s eyes, once in confirmation, and then asks the obvious question, even as he’s leaning in.

“After what?”

Louis doesn’t so much hear the answer, as feels it, breathed out against his lips.

“You know what.”

Yeah. He kind of does.

…


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello! This is an AU fanfiction - nothing is real,everything is a lie.  
> Thank you for reading, kudos-ing, bookmarking, commenting, etc. All good :)

**Chapter Twelve**

Harry has never kissed anyone like this before.

And so then, there comes the whole question of what do you mean, brain? ‘Like this?’

And his attempt to answer feels inadequate, even though he only trying to explain things to his own mind.

However.

_ Like this _ could refer to the fact that Louis is a boy, and all the other people that Harry has kissed (all the other  _ two _ people) have been girls.

Girls that tried to grab at his hips too early, or seemed to think that passionate automatically meant  _ more tongue _ , and Harry hadn’t really enjoyed either experience. He acknowledges that two isn’t a very large sample group, and that maybe there are maybe girls out there who are good kissers; this seems entirely probable.

Harry decides that he wouldn’t mind Louis grabbing at his hips, but that is probably because Louis doesn’t seem at all pre-occupied with anything other than kissing him. The lack of urgency is making Harry feel more urgent, if that even comes close to making sense.

Louis kisses him as though he could kiss him all day. Which would be crazy, and an entirely ridiculous thing to aim for, and also rather lovely.

Another  _ like this _ could be referring to the way that Harry is feeling, while he kisses Louis back.

Which is, to be precise, not worried.

All of his other kissing experiences had been  _ stressful _ , some how. Harry’s overwhelming memories were linked to panic, and the worry that he was doing it wrong somehow, or concern about what a person is supposed to say when the kissing finishes.

There was a time when Harry thought that maybe he wasn’t made for kissing, because everything he had experienced was a direct clash with everything that he had learned; namely that kissing was supposed to be  _ fun _ , and make you feel good.

Harry does feel good.

His hand wanders over towards Louis' of its own volition, and when their fingers touch, Louis wraps his hand around Harry, before linking their fingers together.

It’s almost too much, and Harry very nearly makes a sound in the back of his throat.

Another  _ like this _ could be the feeling of secrecy that surrounds them. And Harry knows that he is the one who needs things to be private, but it doesn’t stop him from wishing otherwise.

Although it does add a certain… excitement, Harry decides to call it.

He isn’t thinking clearly at all.

Louis leans away from the kiss, for a moment, and blinks at him, with lips that are still parted and look on their way to being swollen.

“Good view.”

Harry is inclined to agree. He wonders if his mouth looks like that.

“Yeah.”

There’s a moment of tension, and then it is Harry who crashes forward, because fuck it,  _ fuck it _ , he needs Louis to know that he is into this.

Their mouths meet harder this time, and Harry reaches a hand up, tracing up Louis' jaw before curling around the nape of his neck, pulling him closer.

Louis grunts in surprise, before moaning slightly, and Harry is chasing that, because that reaction,  _ that reaction _ , is why he thinks he wants to kiss Louis, is what he has been thinking about all damn week.

The kisses start to go blurry at the edges, along with Harry’s thought process, until he remembers that they are sitting on the hood of his car, and this is only the second time that they have kissed, and so maybe slowing things down a  _ fraction _ might not be the worst idea.

So he leans his forehead against Louis' for a moment, and recognizes that he is breathing really heavily, and tries to rein it in a bit.

“Um, hi, okay.”

Smooth, Styles. Really smooth.

Louis laughs a little, and then kisses once at his lips, briefly, in a way that has Harry’s eyes drifting closed automatically.

“Oops, our coffees are going to be really cold.”

Harry shrugs, smiling happily.

“Worth it.”

Louis kisses at him again, as if the privilege is going to be removed at any moment, like every second counts.

“Agreed.”

…

Their coffees are cold, and gradually the evening gets cold, until they move back to sit in Harry’s car. Louis adjusts the seat so that it slides all the way back, and then stretches out his legs, feeling pleased with himself. Harry follows the motion, but the combination of his limbs and the console means that he can’t fully stretch out. Harry looks at him after a moment.

“Don’t say anything.”

“What; the one time when being small is an advantage and I have to restrain myself?”

Harry grins, and tilts his head, before taking a bite of cake.

“Yes.”

Louis goes back to his own cake, grumbling  _ good job you are pretty _ , which earns him a snort of laughter from Harry.

This might be the best day of Louis' life.

Which is why he really doesn’t want to bring up some of the more real things that have to be discussed, but he isn’t going to save up problems just for short term happiness.

“So, um.”

Harry looks at him, expectant, and Louis realizes that he has no idea where to start.

“My alibi says hi.”

It’s as good a place as any, even as Harry’s eyebrows climb his head in surprise.

“Who is your alibi? And, ugh, this better not be the moment when you reveal that you are actually a secret agent; things had been going so well.”

Louis laughs, and then waves a hand, dismissing that idea.

“No, although that would make me ten times cooler. No, James is my alibi. He kind of knows about…” Louis waggles a hand between him and Harry, to avoid having to wrap words around the concept.

“…and um, yeah, I’ve said that I was with him after school today. He’s cool. I trust him. He’s a really good guy actually, I think you would get on well with him.”

Harry shrugs, and then smiles, straightforwardly.

“Probably.”

There’s a silence, and then Harry asks the obvious question, and thank  _ god _ , because Louis felt like he was about to pop a rib, from internal pressure.

“Who did you have to lie to?”

Louis looks at Harry, watching as his profile as he steadfastly stares out towards the non-existent horizon, because even though Harry must know who Louis is talking about, he doesn’t seem willing to fill in the gap.

“Liam. We got into a pattern of him giving me a ride after Friday’s, those few times that I waited on the bleachers for him.”

Harry hums noncommittally, and shrugs a shoulder, looking towards Louis with an expression which seems close to apologetic.

“Sorry. Um. What did you say you were doing instead?”

“Going shopping with James- something about needing to get his mom a birthday present.”

Harry nods a couple of times, and then looks at his knees.

“Sorry.”

Louis sighs, and runs a hand through his hair, because he didn’t really start this conversation with the aim of making Harry apologize, because he hasn’t done anything wrong.

“You don’t need to say sorry for anything. But. Um. I was thinking, that maybe you have misjudged Liam. I really don’t think he’d cause a problem. He’s my brother - all he ever talks about is looking after me.”

Harry shrugs, and then inspects the sleeve of the hoodie with a misplaced intensity.

“Yeah, no, I don’t doubt that, it’s just… Well. The football team hate the track team.”

Louis tries to not laugh, because he isn’t in either team and so has to remember that he doesn’t fully understand the ins and outs of the situation.

“Well, yeah, I guess, in a very pantomime sort of way… but you don’t seriously think that Liam would keep that up if I asked him not to? I mean, I know he seems crazy, but the vast majority of that is just an act; he is actually sane.”

Harry’s mouth curls up a little in the corner, and he glances at Louis once.

“I’m not doubting that Liam is probably an awesome older brother, it’s just… I don’t really want everyone talking about me, I guess. And I feel like, even if Liam was okay, he’d still tell people.”

“He wouldn’t if I asked him not to.”

Harry frowns a bit, and then bites his lip.

“You know that Liam really doesn’t like the track team, right?”

Louis shrugs, because yes, that has been covered. And it still makes just as much sense as the first time round.

“Yeah; he thinks you are all arrogant, or entitled, or self-centred, or just a load of idiots, really. But if I told him that you weren’t like that, then-”

“It probably wouldn’t end well. Just, trust me on that, for now.”

This is getting them nowhere, Louis decides abruptly. And Harry isn’t telling him everything.

He tries to push the conversation along, to save them from getting caught in a static loop of repetition.

“Okay. Although you know that you really aren’t any of those things, Harry. And Liam isn’t stupid. He would see that, if you let me.”

Harry tips his head back on the headrest, and smiles gently towards Louis.

“You’d be very good at convincing him, I think.”

Louis puffs his chest out, trying to look like he could take on the world.

“Yeah- super good. I’m his Achilles heel.”

Harry snorts at him, and then just looks carefully at Louis, gaze flickering over his face, as if checking for an indicator of self-doubt.

“Ask me again in like… a month’s time, or something. Okay?”

Louis tries to not look surprised, because that sort of answer only doubles his suspicions that there is something going on here that he doesn’t fully understand.

He shrugs, however. Because this is technically only their second date. It would be a bit intense to expect all the answers right now.

“Okay. So um, anyway, that wasn’t even what I was trying to talk to you about. Uh. James thinks that we need to be less obvious, if we are not wanting people to know.”

Harry blinks a bit at the sudden subject change, and then laughs.

“What are we even doing that is obvious? You’ve stopped randomly turning up to watch training sessions.”

“He thinks all the locker hanging around might get noticed… and I only did that like three times tops, and two of those three were legitimately because I needed a ride from Liam.”

Laughing, Harry nods a few times.

“Oh sure, that’s why you sat towards our end rather than their end. And I doubt that anyone pays that much attention to which lockers we wait next to - besides, if we don’t do that, then I don’t get to see you all day.”

And there it is; Louis doesn’t know how Harry does it, but suddenly he’s not so worried about that subtle request to not ask so many questions.

“Whatever; if you must know, I stopped coming because I figured that the weather was getting cooler, and so you probably wouldn’t be wearing those red shorts anymore.”

Harry laughs loudly, like he’s just been surprised, and then glares comedically at Louis.

“I am not okay with being objectified like this.”

Louis tilts his head to one side in a half shrug, and smiles broadly.

“Whoops.”

Harry narrows his eyes, in a glare that almost distracts Louis from the fact that Harry is also blushing.

“You are going to be more trouble than I had anticipated.”

Louis gives Harry his best smile.

“I hope so.”

Harry laughs at him, and then frowns down at the gap in the seat between them.

“Okay, so, warning, I’m going to try and kiss you now, but these seats are stupidly far away and so if I can’t make it all the way over there and have to bail out half way through you aren’t to mention it.”

Louis snorts in response to what might be the most awkward announcement that he has ever heard in his  _ life _ , and then says, “okay, but maybe if I meet you halfway then that would make things easier.”

Harry nods a couple of times, to say  _ yes, yes it would _ , and then they are kissing again, and Harry tastes like the icing from the cupcake that he was just eating.

Meeting halfway sounds about right.

…

Liam isn’t worried, exactly, because that is something that a parent should do, and probably not at just past eight, which is when he hears the front door open, to announce Louis' arrival back in the house.

But he is  _ curious _ , because that present buying mission took longer than he anticipated, and also just because he is curious. He’s the elder sibling for gods sake. He’s supposed to be curious.

So he sticks his head around into the corridor, where Louis is trying to quietly kick off his sneakers.

“Hello! Where have you been? Did you go in every store downtown or…?”

Louis blinks at him a few times, and then seems to translate Liam’s words into English.

“Oh - nah, we got bored, so we went get something to eat instead. Um. Have you had a good evening?”

Liam shrugs, trying to squash down the feeling that something feels weird, because that sounds exactly like what James and Louis would do.

“Yeah, okay. You just get her flowers and chocolates, that’s what every mom wants; right Mom?”

Their mom makes a noise of approval from the front room, and Louis shrugs, yawning and stretching in a way that looks false, somehow.

“I’ll let him know. Um. What’s for dinner?”

Liam tilts his head to one side.

“I thought you said that you’d just eaten with James?”

Louis looks guilty for a second.

“Oh. Yeah, but not much. I’m a growing boy, you see?”

Louis arches up onto his tippy toes to try and prove the point, and Liam laughs.

“Just  _ saying _ that you are growing doesn’t make it translate into reality, you know- but there is some pasta left, if you want that?”

Louis nods, tippy toeing his way around Liam with a pointed look.

“Don’t crush my dreams Liam.”

Liam holds his hands up in a gesture of innocence, and crouches down, to increase the height difference.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, mini Tommo.”

Laughing, Louis shoves vaguely at his shoulder, to which Liam yells like he has just been shot, because it means their mom calls through a reprimand to Louis.

“Louis, leave your brother alone!”

Louis gapes open mouthed at Liam for a moment, who takes the opportunity to give him the ring finger, grinning evilly. Louis flips him off with his middle finger, to which Liam responds with both ring fingers and a small dance, until Louis breaks, and starts laughing.

“You’re an idiot. Want anything from the kitchen?”

“You know it. And nah, I’m good. Thanks.”

Louis gives him a thumbs up, and wanders down the corridor, as Liam decides that he needs to stop being so paranoid.

Just  _ thinking  _ that something feels weird doesn’t necessarily make it translate into reality.

…


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello my darlings. This is an AU fanfiction. Nothing is real.  
> Thank you for reading!

It’s a nice enough school, Nick has decided.

He hadn’t exactly been thrilled, when his parents had explained that they were having to move, which meant a new school for Nick. Because he’d liked his old school; he had some cool friends and generally felt like everyone knew of him, which meant that nobody could be surprised by his laugh, or his tendency to wiggle when excited.

So starting at a new school meant starting again, which wasn’t something to be  _ scared _ about, he had told himself firmly, but did sound like a great deal of work.

But the first couple of months had gone well enough, and it turns out that joining the football team, which he’d initially done as a dare to himself, had actually been a pretty good idea. Because the footballers seemed to get him, far more quickly than the rest of the school.

And then there is Liam, who is loud and obnoxious and everything Nick dreams of in a boy, and if Liam was gay he would be crushing so hard.

Instead, he recognizes the natural hierarchy of school life, and accepts that, barring brief conversations after training, he probably cannot jump straight into the role of being Liam Tomlinson’s new best friend.

What he can do, however, is get to know his younger brother. Because, from his vague understanding of genetics, if he is in awe of Liam, then he is probably going to at least like Louis.

Plus he is pretty obviously one of his people. Nick doesn’t know why he isn’t already friends with him.

So he parks himself down next to him in the canteen, and smiles.

“Hi!”

Louis nearly drops his spoon, because he’d clearly been off in his own little world, and of all the things that Nick is, subtle is not one of them.

“Whoa shit… hi. God, you scared me.”

Nick takes a little sip of his drink, to avoid smiling.

“Sorry- but  _ hi! _ I’ve decided that I’m going to be friends with you.”

Louis pulls a face of alarm, and then relaxes, laughing slightly.

“Oh, um, okay. I think you might need to revisit your technique; usually it takes a bit more time to make a friend, but yeah, I’m okay with that.”

Nick waggles his hand, dismissing any potential problems, and then scoots a bit closer, whispering like they are co-conspirators.

“I’m on a mission from your big brother, you know - he said that we should be friends. I’m on the football team with him- he said I should come thank you for my position on the team.”

Louis rolls his eyes, and snorts in a good natured way.

“When isn’t Liam trying to stage manage my life? But yeah; I think we share a class, don’t we?”

Nick nods, making a move to open up his sandwich.

“History. Anyway, Liam said we had lots of things in common; so here I am. New best friend material. He said that we needed each other. Well, he didn’t, but it was implied, I feel. In his eyes.”

Louis laughs, and Nick is pleased to see that he hasn’t lost his technique of forcing people to like him through sheer ridiculousness.

“Pretty sure Liam doesn’t think I need a gay best friend.”

Nick gasps, outraged, and then leans in, murmuring.

“I think he was maybe hoping that you’d be  _ my  _ gay best friend, if I’m honest.”

Louis laughs loudly at that, and then flips him off casually.

“Oh,  _ really _ … well, we’ll see. Here, meet my heterosexual best friends…”

Louis waves at a couple of others approaching the table, and then says “Nick, this is Zayn and Eleanor.”

The boy who is called Zayn dumps his tray down opposite, and glares at Louis.

“I heard your heterosexual slur, Louis… offense taken.”

Eleanor rolls her eyes, and sits down opposite Nick.

“Hi - whatever you do, don’t get Zayn started about labels.”

“I just think that I have the right to remain label-less, because what is a label except a way of limiting yourself- Eleanor, I can see you rolling your eyes!”

Louis giggles at the interaction, and then nudges Nick.

“Get ready for a lot of this.”

Nick shrugs, smiling happily.

He’ll take it.

…

Things go well, for a couple of weeks.

Louis finds that, just by telling himself that everything is fine, it means everything does feel a great deal closer to fine.

He really likes Harry. And even though they don’t have much face to face time, they do have a lot of text messaging and meaningful eye contact time, in various caught moments around school corridors.

And so what, if he still isn’t telling Liam? An omission of the truth isn’t the same as a bare-faced lie.

Besides, though he hates to admit it, secrets are kind of  _ fun _ .

…

That Thursday, after school, Louis is in the library, because things are cranking up a gear in his classes, and he now has assignments coming out of his ears. And he is keeping on top of things,  _ just _ , but it is only through managing his spare time really effectively.

And then Harry comes around the corner, and Louis knows that any managing of time is going to be really ineffective, from now on.

Harry dumps all his textbooks and his bag on the table in the gesture that screams  _ bad da _ y and then looks at Louis, sighing.

“Hi. Help me with my Chemistry assignments?”

Louis nods, because of course, but then looks around the library, checking who could be noticing the interaction. Harry reads his mind, and mumbles, “No, there is no one in here. The track team have training, the football team are training, and literally no one else in this school gives a shit.”

Louis tilts his head to one side, and then pulls Harry’s course book over slowly, as if any sudden gestures will spook Harry.

“You okay?”

Harry sits back, and then slouches fully into his seat, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes and sighing loudly.

“Yeah, no, not really… I got a detention for not completing my Chem work, so then I went to ask Coach for leave to work in the library instead, and he was all blah blah commitment blah. But then I left anyway, but because we were out of the track field it meant that I had to walk past some of the… and anyway, basically I hate everything.”

Louis grunts in sympathy, because there is not much more that he can do, and besides, Harry’s walls are up so  _ high  _ that he thinks asking any further questions might result in a full scale collapse.

“Here, let me… I mean, I’ve not covered this section yet, but the theory is usually the same. We’ll figure out the Chemistry problem first.”

Harry looks at him with eyes that are red from the rubbing, and then nods, attempting a smile.

“Thanks Lou. I just… Chemistry might be my nemesis.”

Louis reaches under the table, and strokes a couple of fingers over Harry knee, trying to sooth him, somehow. Harry looks down at the table, and then smiles a more real smile, and Louis thinks about all the bad days he has had, and how being able to laugh at something always made him feel better.

“We’ll figure it out - don’t worry, I’ll even put in a few mistakes so that Mr Mitchell doesn’t suspect anything.”

Harry snorts, and flips him off, as Louis grins widely.

“I hate you too, for the record.”

“No you don’t.”

Harry rolls his eyes, and looks far more normal.

“No, I guess not. Or at least, I hate you less than everyone else, right now.”

Louis chuckles, rooting through his equipment for a pencil.

“Such a charmer…”

…

It takes a while, for Louis' presence to sooth away Harry’s irritation, but it does the trick, eventually.

(Walking back over the track field had meant walking back past the football team. And even though none of them had said anything, or probably even noticed him, Liam had. And he hadn’t even said anything, just caught Harry’s eye briefly before looking away, rolling his eyes hard enough to strain something. And Harry is done with trying to explain or justify anything to Liam Tomlinson, ever again.)

For Harry, this entire situation is easier to get his head around if he just pretends that Liam and Louis aren’t related in the slightest. They certainly  _ seem  _ completely different.

Harry likes watching how Louis works.

He’s dug a sheet of paper out, and is methodically working through each calculation, trying to draw Harry attention to where he went wrong and suggesting pointers of how he could overcome those problems next time, and basically doing everything that his useless Chem teacher refuses to do.

Harry has moved around, so that they are sitting side by side, in order to better understand what Louis is talking about. It means that he can’t see Louis eyes anymore, but can watch the number of times that Louis tucks his hair behind his ears, or unconsciously flexes his left hand when he is thinking, with great intensity.

Harry isn’t concentrating very much on what Louis is saying. However, he appreciates that Louis is trying to fix things. He’s a fixer. Harry likes that.

Harry feels like he is nothing but a problem causer.

“Harry?”

Shit. Louis has asked him a question.

“Mmm?”

“Is this making sense?”

Harry shrugs, because it kind of is, but he is aware that it might also all melt out of his brain the second he tries to do it alone.

“Yeah- thanks for helping, Louis.”

Louis shrugs, as though he has got nothing better to be doing, as though his half finished assignments aren’t abandoned next to him on the desk.

“It’s nothing.”

Harry acts on impulse for once, and reaches his hand out to Louis', running his thumb over the back of Louis' knuckles before squeezing once. Louis breathes in sharply in surprise, before quickly removing both of their hands from the table, so that the link between them is a bit more hidden underneath the cluttered surface.

Harry smiles quietly, and watches the way that a blush is building on Louis' cheeks.

“It’s something, though. So thank you.”

The library is quiet, and the uselessness of today just makes Harry’s need to feel good even more intense, and if there is one thing that he has developed a recent certainty about, it is that kissing Louis makes him feel good. And so the desire to do something that he really shouldn’t do is  _ building _ , all the while, like an undercurrent that wears at the sturdiest foundations.

Louis must know what he is thinking, because the hand holding his squeezes once, even as the eye contact becomes almost unbearable. Harry licks his lips, unthinking.

Louis looks away, quickly.

“Okay, don’t do that unless you are good with me kissing you right here in the library.”

It doesn’t sounds like a terrible idea, says one part of his giddy brain, but then the rest of his thought process shouts the idea down, as Harry blinks rapidly a few times, trying to come to his senses.

“I’d be good, but I think the librarian might not be okay with it, so-”

Whatever the rest of Harry’s planned sentence was going to be gets dropped, along with Harry’s hand, as Louis sits back in his chair quickly, and says  _ hi  _ in way that sounds slightly too loud.

Harry turns to look at whoever Louis just saved them from being caught by, but decides that he doesn’t need to panic too hard, even as his heart rattles around in his chest. It’s just one of Louis' friends, who Harry sees Louis with a lot, and a tall boy, that Harry feels like he might know from somewhere but can’t fully place.

The girl speaks, stumbling over her words slightly.

“Hi, um, sorry, me and Nick were going to work on something, and thought we’d check to see if you were here. But, um, I didn’t know you were busy.”

Louis shrugs, trying to look nonchalant.

“Just working on some Chem, don’t worry about it Eleanor. Hi Nick.”

Nick waves once, briefly, and then tugs at Eleanor’s sleeve.

“We’ll leave you to it Louis, we need to pick up some books before the library closes anyway- see you around.”

Harry’s heart eases out into a more normal rhythm, as they walk away, and even though Louis is looking panicked, they weren’t caught, so it’s fine.

Everything is fine.

“Hey- let’s go.”

Louis raises his eyebrows, and then shrugs, clicking his pen closed.

“But… where do you want to go?”

Harry doesn’t stumble over the words, not in the slightest.

“Somewhere you can help me with this,  _ and  _ I can kiss you.”

It does the trick, and Louis is suddenly packing away in double time.

“Multi-tasking; I like it.”

…

Zayn and Eleanor think that he’s being stupid, of course.

They think that everyone involved is stupid - Harry for being so adamant that Liam can’t know, despite not giving a single good reason for it. Liam for allowing the stupid nonsense feud to continue between track and cheerers, with no apparent justification behind it. And Louis for putting up with it.

“As if Liam would actually give a shit.” is their mantra, now almost repeated on the daily.

Louis doesn’t care though. Not really.

Harry drives up to the look out point, and they sit on the hood of his car again, or rather Harry sits, and Louis gets to stand between his legs, and kiss him. And the view is easy to ignore because it is easy to ignore everything other than Harry.

He is warm to the touch, and all of the other problems can be addressed after the problem of making sure that Harry is in a good mood again.

It’s cool enough for jackets now, and after a few minutes, Louis sneaks his hands underneath Harry’s jacket, linking at the small of his back.

Harry hums into the kiss, and then Louis can tell that he is smiling.

“This isn’t really multi-tasking Harry; this is just kissing.”

Harry laughs slightly, and then kisses him again, as if it has been too long.

“Priorities Louis - we can do Chemistry at any point.”

Louis nods in agreement, and then brings his hands down slightly, so that they rest on Harry’s hips. Harry bites his lip in direct response, and then stares levelly at Louis.

“I wish we could do this all the time.”

Louis smiles, and struggles to not kiss Harry really hard in response.

“I think our teachers might have a few problems with that, to be honest.”

Harry laughs, and then tips his head forward, so that it is resting on Louis' shoulder.

“No, you know what I mean.”

Louis shrugs, because  _ yeah _ , he thinks he does.

He just doesn’t understand why Harry wants something, and yet also doesn’t want to happen.

It doesn’t feel like a lie, not exactly.

He’s not bringing it up now, though.

“I’m game if you are.”

Harry nods a couple of times, out of sight, and then kisses Louis hard, like he’s trying to forget everything else.

Like he’s trying to convince himself of something.

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also thank you for your patience with my irregular posting :)


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello! This is an AU fanfiction  
> As ever, thank you for reading, kudosing, bookmarking, leaving comments, etc - all appreciated.

Another couple of weeks pass, and this is officially winter, now.

Winter doesn’t really mean much in San Francisco, beyond an extra layer of sweater, but Harry really dislikes the training sessions that have to continue after school. Because it is definitely too cold for shorts now, but the coach still makes the team wear them, as he is safely swaddled in a million layers and a body warmer.

He kind of hates track.

Except that he doesn’t- he wouldn’t still be doing it if he actually hated it.

Harry likes the feeling of burning energy, and the competition against his own personal bests. And he loves Cara, and likes a number of the others on the track team.

And so even though he really doesn’t like winter season, and a healthy majority of the girls on the team, Harry stays. He worries that if he quit, he somehow wouldn’t be achieving his potential.

(But surely that is the same with everything? Different levels of potential in different fields.)

He doesn’t want to quit though. He isn’t a quitter, even when it means working until bed, and then getting up earlier than he has ever done before, to go for a run just to keep his conditioning in check.

Louis fits in, because Harry spends nearly all of his limited free time with him. They go to the coffee shop almost every other day, and talk in circles while Annie watches them with a smile and gives them free refills.

And sometimes they hold hands underneath the table, but sometimes they don’t.

And sometimes when Harry drops Louis off at the end of his road, they kiss like they don’t care if someone sees them (Because what are the odds, really?)

But sometimes they don’t.

Despite his best efforts, Harry can’t help but feel like maybe they are getting away with it. Maybe this could be a thing which eases into reality without anyone having to arch an eyebrow in the slightest.

It’s a damn stupid notion, but what isn’t, these days?

…

Liam feels like he is missing something.

Namely, his little brother.

But then again, Liam is hella busy himself. Senior year turns out to be kind of hard work, and then Coach Winters expects training standards to be consistently high, and it all culminates in Liam feeling like any time that he has to breathe in two uninterrupted breaths is a blessing and a privilege.

But Louis shouldn’t be as busy as he seems to be. Constantly staying late at school, and then disappearing up into his room to do more work. Which, well, that’s reasonable, because Louis gives one hundred percent towards his school work, whereas Liam doesn’t even have an ‘one hundred percent’ setting, when it comes to school work.

However, what isn’t reasonable, is the fact that Louis seems so damn  _ happy _ , about how busy he is.

If it isn’t impromptu one man dance parties in the kitchen, he’ll be humming a happy little tune as he is pouring his breakfast cereal, or be laughing at something on the television that really isn’t that funny, as though he has a lot of laughter inside him and needs a way to release it, somehow.

Basically, if Liam didn’t know better, he’d say that Louis was on drugs.

As it is, he’s coming to the uneasy conclusion that Louis just enjoys school, maybe?

He doesn’t know. All he knows is that it is early on a Tuesday morning, Liam feels like shit, and Louis is twirling around the room like an undiscovered ballerina.

“Okay, what’s the secret?”

Liam thuds both of his elbows onto the breakfast bar by way of emphasis, and Louis jumps, fumbling his phone like a bad infomercial.

“Wha- what?”

Liam shrugs, gesturing at Louis as if to say  _ don’t what me young man. _

“All the happy, bouncing around on toes, zip-pah-dee-doo-dah shit. I want whatever you are having.”

Louis grins, blushes, and shrugs, all at the same time, which is impressive and makes Liam want to throw a button at his head which says _I’m_ _cute!_

“Dunno, just… in a good mood, I guess. Things going pretty well at school, having a fun time. Thanks for telling Nick to come and insist on being my friend, by the way. I like him.”

Liam rolls his eyes good naturedly, and then says “Of course you do, you are like wonder twins of positivity. Okay, whatever, strange alien creature who likes education; if the answer to all the happy is  _ try hard at school _ then count me out. Am I driving you in today or-”

Louis nods a couple of times, looking around at the clock on the wall.

“Yeah- that’d be great actually, that way I can see if I can catch Mrs McKenzie before classes start; the extension task she set was a bit of a challenge-”

“Okay, okay, didn’t ask for run through of your geekery.”

“Hey!”

…

Nick now pretty much knows where everything is in school, which means the day to day is  _ far _ easier; there is nothing worse than having to stop, and ask a stranger for  _ directions _ (the horror.)

However, this part of school is slightly more alien to him, because he is looking for the janitor’s office in the vague hope that his missing textbook has turned up in lost property. And so he rounds an incorrect corner, to find himself face to face with the group of girls in his year who are slightly too scary for him to hang out with, and probably think that he is a dweeb.

And this is apparently where they hang out. Okay. Graceful exit Nick.

“Oh, um, sorry, um, I thought, janitor, my textbook, okay nevermind.”

Nailed it.

He’s not exactly running away, but his footsteps are definitely at a higher cadence than normal, which is why he is surprised when someone catches up with him.

“Hey… it is Nick, right?”

Nick clutches his folder even closer to his chest, and restrains from making a sign to ward off the devil, because this is Perrie Edwards, who definitely knows his name because she sits behind him in English and spends almost all her time flicking tiny paper balls at the rest of the class. Most of them end up in his hair.

“Yes, hello, I was just looking for the janitors office- sorry to disturb the powwow.”

Perrie is chewing gum rapidly, and gestures vaguely over her shoulder, while looking him up and down.

“Yeah, its through there. So. You are new.”

Nick nods, because yes.

“And gay.”

Nick nods again, because  _ yes _ , and also  _ argh _ , but if this is going to escalate into a hate crime then he thinks he can probably out-pace her, because Perrie’s shoes do not look compatible with a turn of speed.

“And you are friends with Louis. Somehow.”

Nick nods again, even as his brain stalls, because what?

Perrie is chewing rapidly, and looks at him with narrowed eyes, as if considering her next move. She seems to come to a decision, and clears her throat.

“Okay, firstly, you should probably know that if you tell  _ anyone _ , I will find a way to have someone deliver a wedgie to you, every day for the rest of you school life.”

_ Well _ . This friendship seems off to a great start. Nick must have blanched slightly, because Perrie nods, to underline her intent.

“Walk with me to English, will you?”

“But… my textbook-”

“Walk. with. me.”

…

Harry’s locker is becoming one of his favorite places.

Actually, Louis seems to have developed several new ‘favorite places’, over the last month or so.

The coffee shop on the corner, the look out point, the passenger seat of Harry’s car, Harry’s personal space in general… if Louis could spend all his time there, then he would.

They haven’t said the word  _ boyfriend _ yet, and, if Louis is being honest, he isn’t sure that  _ boyfriend  _ usually involves so much sneaking around. But he is happy, and when he is with Harry, he is confident that Harry is happy.

It feels pretty close to enough.

(Good enough. Close enough.)

But the different thing about waiting by Harry’s locker, is that, even though it is in the quiet part of school, there is still the risk of being spotted somehow. Being found out, by someone nosy enough to ask the correct questions in the correct order, until the whole knot of knowledge unravels into their lap.

Louis isn’t  _ hoping _ that it happens soon, exactly, because Harry is still in a strange sort of lockdown over the whole thing, and Louis doesn’t want to rush him.

But he can’t help but feel like, maybe if the big reveal was just over, somehow, then whatever trauma Harry is imagining can have happened, and then they can all start healing over. Like ripping off a bandaid- just get it done.

But equally, there is no emergency. The secret is kind of fun.

Especially because, whenever Harry sees Louis waiting next to his locker, the wave of reactions that go over his face as he struggles to not smile too wide are really cute.

Usually Cara is with him, but Harry assures him that Cara knows and is trustworthy. That’s what happens this time, and Cara nods once at him, before peeling off to open her own locker. Harry takes the final couple of steps over towards him, smiling quietly.

“Stalker.”

“Whatever.”

Louis leans on the lockers behind him, watching Harry in a way that feels familiar now. Harry frowns at the contents of his locker, and then bites his lips, before glancing once at Louis.

“You here to just look at me?” he mumbles, and Louis shrugs in response.

“That would be really bad, wouldn’t it?”

Harry’s eyes crinkle in the corners, even as he says  _ yeah _ , and even as his tongue darts out to lick at lips that must remember Louis' kisses from last night.

Louis clears his throat as a reminder to himself that he can’t kiss Harry here.

“I’m also here to tell you that I’m going to get a ride home with Li tonight- I do actually have a whole heap of stuff I need to take home, and Liam was asking me weird questions this morning, so I thought I’d do a bit of brother time. Sorry.”

Harry’s face has taken on that weird stillness that it always does when Louis mentions his brother, but he seems to shake it off, after a second.

“Yeah, that’s okay - I’m really behind on pretty much everything, so I should do some work tonight.”

Louis nods, looking with concern at the pile of textbooks in Harry’s arms.

“Sorry.”

Harry shrugs, smiling.

“Not your fault, really. I’m the one who has been prioritising other things.”

Harry is wearing a sweater and a scarf and just looks really pretty somehow, and Louis feels the regular stutter that his heart wants to take, every time he gets to really look at Harry. Harry blushes after a second.

“Is that it? Because you could have told me that by text.”

Louis shrugs, happy.

“Yeah, I know- there was a significant fraction of truth about just wanting to look at you.”

Cara clears her throat at that point, and murmurs  _ guys _ , and Louis takes a big automatic step backwards.

“Louis! Hi- good lord I have been looking everywhere for you. Hi again- do you mind if I steal him? Louis, walk with me; we’re going to be late.”

Harry looks slightly horrified to notice that Nick is wearing his football team hoodie, and waves a hand at Louis.

“Oh kay- thanks Louis.”

Nick slips an arm through Louis', and is leading Louis away.

“Sorry - more Chem work that I’m interrupting? Anyway- no time! I have literally been scouring the school for you this entire recess, but now it is two minutes until class and I have Miss Dawson so I can’t possibly be late. But! I need to talk to you post haste. Okay? About things.  _ Things _ .”

Something about the coy look that Nick gives him at this point makes Louis panic, and he tries to joke his way out of it.

“Nick, is this is about how to measure bra sizes then you should speak to Eleanor...”

Nick swats at him, and then takes a step away, where their paths have to divide. He points at him.

“Be prepared okay- I have gossip for you.”

Louis doesn’t like the sound of gossip, but Nick has twirled away before he can say anything to try and shut the conversation down.

He hates  _ not knowing _ , but resigns himself to another afternoon of half formed questions.

Although at least Nick looks like he plans on telling him what is going on.

…

Niall is  _ annoyed _ .

At himself, and at the moron who decided to leave a bench half stretched across the gym, and the younger footballers who were doing something stupid looking on the other side of the gym, and Niall was just trying to provide a duty of care, and, well, long story short; she ran into a bench and did a cool mid air spin.

And landed on his knee.

So he’s been relegated to sitting on the side, (on the same goddamn bench, oh the irony) with an icepack on his knee.

For a while he’d tried to direct from the side, until Liam had flapped a hand at him, and then, with a few more gestures, had sent Louis over to keep him company.

“Are you the team medic?”

Louis laughs at him, and sets his textbooks down next to Niall.

“No, sorry. Um. Elevate it, maybe?”

Niall rolls his eyes, and then pats the bench next to him.

“Thanks doc.”

Niall settles into watching the training session in a slightly more abstract manner, and chats quietly with Louis, who he never really speaks to, but he feels a certain level of protectiveness regardless. He supposes that he can’t help it, Liam’s aura of protectiveness casts a big shadow.

Louis is crazily different from Liam, but he is really easy to get on with, and he’s just a good person. He’s really likeable. Niall almost forgets the pain in his knee, as they catch up and talk about the subjects Louis is taking and Niall’s plans for next year.

After a small stretch of silence, in which they watch an old routine with new people in it, Louis fidgets a little bit on the bench, before clearing his throat.

“So, um, I was wondering. Um.”

Louis trails off, and Niall pokes him after a second.

“What? You okay?”

Louis groans slightly, and repositions himself on his seat, leaning back against the wall behind him.

“This is probably a stupid thing to ask, cause it is going to be a question that hasn’t really got an obvious answer, but… like, what’s the deal, with your team and the track team?”

Niall twists his mouth, because that sounds like a bigger question than maybe he can take on.

That sounds like a question for Liam.

Evasive action; go.

“Ahh, it isn’t really a thing between the two teams, to be honest. I think maybe being Liam’s brother has given you a bit of a skewed take on this. It’s more of a, you know, a Liam vs specific people in the track team. Specific persons…”

Okay Niall, that isn’t so much evasive action as zoning straight onto the target. He feels like one of those surprised drivers who are so busy trying to miss the small innocent creature that had stumbled out in the road that they actually hit it. Louis stays quiet for a moment, and then says,

“Specific persons…?”

Abort, abort, abort.

“Maybe you should ask Liam.”

Louis looks down at his knees.

“Yeah, and maybe he won’t tell me.”

Niall tilts his head to one side, and observes Louis. Because Niall isn’t stupid. He notices things that Liam doesn’t, because Liam seems to have developed a deliberate blind spot when it comes to the track team.

So he had noticed that Louis hadn’t seemed very preoccupied with watching the football team, in that brief phase when he had waited on the bleachers. But he had been pretty intensely preoccupied with watching the track team.

He puts his hand on Louis' knee, squeezing gently.

“Have you asked him though?”

Louis shrugs.

“Not recently.”

“Then maybe you should?”

Louis looks at him for a moment, and then deliberately changes focus, watching the team with a glum expression.

“No one seems very inclined to tell me anything.”

Niall stretches, flexing out his knee as a distraction to what he is saying.

“The thing about answers is that you don’t get them without asking.”

Louis snorts after moment, and the tension lifts.

“So- you’re planning to be a philosopher after college?”

Niall grins, at then ruffles at Louis' hair on impulse.

“It’s where the big bucks are, I hear.”

Louis smiles, and leans into Niall, nudging his shoulder.

“Thank Ni.”

For nothing, Niall thinks.

**…**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nearly there guys


	15. Chapter Fifteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello! This is a very AU fanfiction.
> 
> This is all lies.
> 
> Thank you for reading! :)

Chapter Fifteen

The wheels fall off in the space of about twenty four hours.

All Liam really remembers, when he thinks back, is that he went from a pretty zen state of  _ what the fuck is Louis so happy about these days _ , to  _ what the fuck does  _ he _ think he is doing  _ in something approaching mach speed.

He does remember that his first suspicion that something was up came from Niall.

He’d given Niall a ride home, with Louis quiet in the backseat. Liam had filled the silence by trying to think of as many knee injury based abusive nicknames as he could come up with, with Ni rolling his eyes at each one.

“Here you are then Stumpy.”

Niall snorts, and flips him off, before turning in his seat to speak to Louis.

“It was good to talk to you by the way - let me know how it goes.”

Liam glances up at Louis in the rear view mirror, who is doing a pretty poor poker face.

“How what goes?”

Niall levers open the door, and hobbles out.

“Oh, just stuff, you know. Bye Li.”

Liam waves him off, and then puts the car into drive.

“What’s that about?”

Liam is concentrating on the road, and so doesn’t watch Louis as he answers, however just from his tone he can  _ feel _ that something is not fully normal about his answer. Louis hesitates before responding, and speaks as though he is thinking carefully, about each one of his words.

“Um. Nothing. Just…we were talking about career plans and things, after high school. Niall suggested that I go speak to the careers advice woman.”

Sounds sensible. And nothing at all like something Niall would say. At the next moment that Liam can, he looks up at Louis in the mirror, and even though dusk is creeping up around them, he can still just about make out a hint of a blush, highlighting his younger brother’s cheeks.

“You sure about that?”

Louis frowns, and then meets his eye briefly, glaring.

“Why would I say it otherwise? Yes I’m sure.”

Whoa, okay. Grumpy, much? Liam lets Louis' terrible acting slide, because him and Louis never argue, and he is not about to start over some throwaway conversation that almost certainly means nothing.

“Okay, okay, jeez, just asking.”

Louis sounds only slightly placated, and grumbles, “yeah, well, maybe I don’t have to tell you about every detail, all the time. You never do.”

Liam’s eyebrows rise in response, and he thinks about taking things up a notch, before inhaling a deep breath and flicking on the radio.

“I’m going to assume you’ve had a really shitty day, okay? Because it was a perfectly innocent question and does not deserve this level of outrage. But whatever. No further questions.”

Louis stays quiet in the back, and Liam drives on, biting at the inside of his lower lip.

Because Louis is  _ never _ this unreasonable.

…

Louis' bad mood lingers into the next day, because he has clearly been operating under false pretences.

Of  _ course _ it isn’t the entire track team. Of  _ course  _ it is just some weird one man rage campaign that Liam is participating in. And of  _ course _ Louis hadn’t spotted it because Louis' understanding of the football and track world comes with a pretty large Liam filter attached to it.

And small section of Louis brain registers that Harry hasn’t explained or discussed this at all, but Louis does his best to ignore that thought. Liam’s his brother; he should have told him.

(Liam doesn’t know that it is relevant; Harry does.)

Harry and him are a new thing; who tells all their secrets at once in a new relationship?

(People who are trying to be honest?)

Louis doesn’t have the answers, and so just clings to the fact that he is usually a pretty good judge of character, and Harry has done nothing other than given Louis about a million reasons to crush on him even harder.

It eats away at him, overnight, however. Because balance is important, and Louis feels that maybe he is giving more honesty than he is getting, at the moment.

He avoids Liam, the next morning, because he thinks that he either needs to apologize, or explain himself, and neither sound that appealing, at the moment.

So he gets the bus into school, and frowns at his textbook with his music turned up high for the entire journey. Louis feels like the entire bus is staring at him, but tries to shake it off, because he knows they are not. He isn’t that interesting.

At the gates of the school, Nick greets him by bouncing up and down on his toes a few times, and then dashing over, looking a great deal like an excitable puppy that has had skittles for breakfast.

“Hi! Oh my god, hello. The pain of not texting you last night - ridiculous. But I said to myself- ‘no Nick. Gossip is best gossiped upon face to face’. And so here I am. Are you proud of me?”

You see, the thing is, he  _ likes  _ Nick. Louis really likes him. He likes his energy and his determination to not give a shit about what other students think about him and the easy way in which he laughs at himself; he likes all of that.

But as someone who suddenly feels like they have a secret, Louis isn’t sure if he is really that down for gossip.

He runs a hand through his hair.

“Ahhh, Nick, I don’t know, I don’t feel so good today…”

Nick shoves an arm around his shoulders, and squeezes once in a show of sympathy.

“Ugh, poor you. The worst. I’ll be brief though - it won’t take long. And then you can go have a nap in class somewhere.”

Louis submits, allowing himself to be towed towards school. He hoists his bag a bit higher on his shoulder as he walks.

“Um, yeah, okay- what do you need to tell me?”

Nick clears his throat, and holds up a hand into conduct a dramatic pause.

“I know someone who has a crush on you.”

Louis rolls his eyes, but then his brain connects the dots and he freezes mid-step, before shrugging away from Nick.

“Dude- what the fuck?”

Nick giggles, looking delighted, and then nods a couple of times.

“I know right? Also, I didn’t believe it at first, but then I’ve been thinking about it and frankly, they have been making it pretty obvious for a while now, and I’m  _ new _ , so god knows how the rest of the human population haven’t spotted it-”

Louis cuts him off, pointing a finger under his nose, because he absolutely can  _ not _ have Nick, contender for the world’s biggest gossip, thinking that discussing him and Harry is an okay thing to do.

“No. Stop talking. You can’t just- you need to not say anything, okay? Because…I don’t really know, I refuse to be the one who spills this secret first. We’re.. not cool with you talking about it, and if you mention it to anyone then I’ll probably never trust you again.”

Nick takes a couple of steps back, looking startled, and then holds up his hands.

“Whoa, okay- I am talking about Perrie Edwards, girl who has apparently been nurturing a one-sided crush on you for the last year… who on earth are you talking about? Are you seeing someone?”

Shit. Shit shit fuckity shit shit.

“No. Forget I said anything, and i’m not interested in Perrie, you should know that”

Nick’s eyes widen.

“Holy shit you are seeing someone… good job bro. This is  _ better _ than the Perrie revelation! All hush hush though, huh? He still in the closet? I can get that- if you need me to stage an intervention on how to be out and proud for your mystery man then I am on board, okay?”

Louis runs his hand through his hair in frustration, because he needs Nick to take this seriously, but also can’t explain it to him without having to tell him the entire thing, and he is on the  _ football team _ , of all things, and Louis can feel the panic rising in him like a high tide.

“Nick, I’m not… this is not a joke, okay. Just- never mention this again, will you? To anyone. Ever. Not even me.”

Nick blinks at him, and then squints.

“Um, okay, but unless this is a teacher then I really don’t see what the big deal is…”

“Fucking hell Nick, I  _ just said _ that this isn’t a joke, can you not take anything seriously?”

Louis snaps at him, and then takes a couple of steps away, before deciding that leaving altogether might be the quickest way to stop the immediate horror continuing. Just before he turns away Nick stretches out his arms wide, in a gesture that he supposes is trying to say  _ what the fuck _ , but all Louis can really see is that it makes more arriving students look at them, and he just doesn’t get it, does he?

Secrets aren’t fun things. Not right now.

…

Harry tries to wait by Louis' locker in the morning, but to no avail. Equally, due to the busy nature of the corridor, he feels like he can’t stay too long. And when one of Louis' friends (Zayn, he thinks) gives him a wave and a smile, Harry decides that this is not the place to be.

But he does  _ need _ to speak to Louis.

Because there has been a weight, growing at the pit of Harry’s stomach, about the amount of dancing around the truth that he has been doing, when it comes to Louis.

They’ve been seeing each other in secret for over a month now - and even though that still sounds like a very short time, Harry feels like he can trust Louis.

Trust that Louis will at least hear his side of the story, rather than just automatically siding with Liam. And if Harry tells him, rather than letting it be discovered, somehow, at least Harry gets to explain himself first.

He tells Cara, that morning, about his plans. Cara, in a testament to the fact that she seems to be one of the few people who actually understands why this is harder than it seems, widens her eyes, and then rubs a hand across his shoulders.

“Good luck. But it’ll be okay. I’m sure. And I’ll tell Louis that you are looking for him, if I see him around, okay?”

Harry nods, and checks his phone again surreptitiously, in case Louis has responded to his message requesting a meet up.

Nothing.

Harry worries about that too.

…

Louis is making his way to Biology, weaving through a busy crowd, when a hand reaches out for him, in the corridor.

“Hey.”

It’s Harry.

Louis blinks in surprise, because the norm is that they don’t acknowledge each other in busy places, and then his surprise goes up a couple of notches, when Harry pulls him out of the crowd, and into an empty classroom.

“Harry… we can’t be in here by ourselves.”

Harry nods, stepping around the corner so that people would have to stick their heads into the room to see them.

“Yeah, I know, I just needed to speak quickly to you.”

Louis perches on a desk, folding his arms and frowning slightly at Harry, because, that bad mood? Yeah, still not fully left yet.

“Okay. Um, I also need to speak to you, about a potential issue…”

Harry interrupts, clearing his throat.

“I’ve been avoiding some of your questions.”

Louis goes quiet, and then nods.

“Yeah, you have.”

Harry fidgets on one foot briefly, and then locks eyes, with Louis.

“I’ll tell you everything tonight, okay? It just, it might take a while to explain, so I was asking whether you’d be free to just come somewhere with me. The look out point, or whatever. Because I can’t just ignore it forever, and you have obviously been being really patient, but it isn’t fair for you-”

Louis cuts him off, reaching across the really not that distant gap between them to squeeze at Harry’s wrist.

“Sure, of course. Whatever you want to do.”

Harry blinks at him, a couple of times, and Louis is startled to notice that there are tears, threatening in his eyes.

“Sorry, its just, yeah- okay. Cafe? Or-?”

It is kind of stupid, how much he just seems to  _ feel _ , whenever he is around Harry, but Louis wants to hug him, and it is only the open door, a couple of yards to his right, which prevents him.

“We could get snacks from my place after school? Make a dumb picnic. And then go to the lookout point? Cause there’ll be no one home - parents will still be a work, and Liam has training.”

Harry looks at him for a moment, and Louis wonders if he has pushed too fast. Because this isn’t something which goes near their houses, even if they are completely empty.

Then Harry shrugs, and nods, and Louis breaths out an internal sigh of relief, because it feels like the closest thing to progress he has made in a long while.

“Okay. Good plan.”

The second bell sounds, indicating that they are now officially late, and Louis jumps guiltily.

“We should be going.”

Harry nods silently, and squeezes at Louis' hand once, before letting his arm drop away.

…

The lunch queue is ridiculous, of course.

Liam is usually not above jumping forward a few places, because that is the natural order of things; the seniors get to bypass all the younger years. They’ll get their turn to do it, in a few years.

(Liam ignores the fact that he has been queue jumping for the last couple of years, because that doesn’t detract from the fact that now he is  _ allowed  _ to do it, by the unwritten laws of the school.)

However, once he jumps a few nobodies, the next person in the queue is Louis' friend James, and Liam would prefer to not give Louis another reason to be inexplicably pissed off with him.

Instead he pokes him in the back, and says “Hey.”

James turns, and then jumps slightly, looking shocked, before settling.

“Oh, hi Liam.”

Liam laughs, because James looks positively spooked.

“I swear I am not that intimidating. Well, I am, but I’ve not got that setting activated at the moment.”

James nods, clearing his throat.

“No, I know; you just don’t normally speak to me.”

Liam pulls a face.

“Sure I do - Louis' friends are my friends. We’ve spoken. We’ve had conversations.”

James nods, mute, and shuffles forward a place in the line. Liam follows, suddenly feeling a bit stupid, because having a conversation about how they have definitely had conversations does not count as  _ having a conversation _ .

“Ahh, so, what did you get your mom, in the end?”

James looks at him as if he just started speaking Japanese.

“Uh, what?”

“For her birthday, you know.”

James shrugs, shaking his head.

“My mom’s birthday isn’t for another three months. I’ve not thought about it.”

What?  Liam squints at him, tipping his head to one side.

“No, Louis definitely said that he was going to the stores with you, a couple of weeks ago, to get a gift for your mom.”

James looks blankly at him for a moment, and then his eyes widen, and he starts talking too fast.

“Oh-  _ oh _ , that, yeah, uh, no it wasn’t, I mean, we were definitely together, then, but uh, it wasn’t for… it wasn’t my mom’s birthday. It was my aunt’s. We went shopping for my aunt’s birthday.”

Liam pulls a face, because no, Louis had definitely said it was James’s mom.

“He said it was for your mom.”

James wilts slightly, and then shrugs, looking shifty, and suddenly taking on an extreme interest in the salad options, next to them.

“Um, I don’t know, he must have gotten confused.”

Liam nods, murmuring  _ right _ , and adjusting his hold on his tray.

Because James is lying, which means that Louis lied.

And the only reason that Liam is  _ still _ confused is because he can’t figure out why Louis would feel like he has to lie to Liam.

…


	16. Chapter Sixteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello! This is an AU fanfiction - nothing is real. 
> 
> As ever, thank you for reading, kudosing, bookmarking, leaving comments, etc - all appreciated.
> 
> Good luck everybody!

Somehow, the conversation with James generates a headache, and Liam spends the rest of the afternoon rubbing at his temples, hoping that sheer force of will can some how make the problem go away.

It doesn’t, of course, and Liam gets grouchier and grouchier as the lessons progress, because all of his teachers are patronizing pricks who think that he is ignoring them out of a bad attitude, rather than a splitting headache.

He gets a detention for his troubles, and accepts the slip without remark, because he will have the energy to campaign against it another time. Liam just adds it to the small pile of detention slips in his locker at the end of the day, and focuses on his timetable.

_ Fuck _ . He’s got two essays due in tomorrow, that he really hasn’t the time for, and that is even if he skips training tonight, which he isn’t sure he’ll be allowed to do. Niall is still walking wounded, and definitely won’t be there, which means that full responsibility for the training session falls to Liam.

Halfway over to the gym Liam can feel his resolve crumbling, because this day has somehow been a complete parade of shit, and all Liam really want to do is get home, figure out how to do the bare minimum on his assignments, and then find a way to speak to Louis.

Because  _ something  _ is going on, and the more Liam thinks about it the more that he realizes that Louis hasn’t just been busy, these past few weeks. He’s been distant, as if he is avoiding everyone else in the house. And if it something that Liam can fix, or something that Liam is  _ doing _ , then he is pretty eager to get going on that.

Making a decision, he veers over to the gym office, to find Coach Winters, with his feet up on the desk, checking his phone.

“Hart? What’s up? There a problem?”

“Coach, I’m sorry, but I need to bail on the session tonight. I’m feeling like I just got hit by a freight train. But Niall isn’t here, so if I go then there’ll be no-one to lead the session.”

Coach groans, and then removes his feet from the desk, leaning forward to check his diary on the desk.

“Let’s see…I’ve got a parent coming in for a meeting in five minutes, but that shouldn’t take long… Do you think you can keep the team occupied for the first twenty minutes? Then I’ll come take over.”

Liam smiles gratefully, reminding himself that not all teachers are assholes.

“Thanks Coach.”

“Not a problem- you look like you could use some sleep.”  

Liam nods, because that isn’t the half of it, and then makes his way towards the changing rooms, ready to prod the younger members into doing their warm up routines.

Nick falls into step next to him.

“Hi - do you have a second to talk?”

Liam grunts, and tries to give the impression of having no seconds ever, because he approves of Nick generally, but he thinks he might be a bit much for him, right now.

“Not really - I’m just doing warm up routines and then going home, to be honest.”

Nick nods, bouncing from one foot to the other next to him.

“Okay, it’s, umm, it’s about Louis, you see.”

Liam sighs, and puts his hands on his hips, because what isn’t about Louis, all of a sudden?

“Fine. Five minutes after practice, okay?”

…

Nick had been playing with a guilty conscience all day.

Louis had always struck him as really confident in himself, and completely out and proud. But something about Louis' meltdown over his suggestion that he was seeing someone had forced him to reconsider.

Maybe he isn’t as out as Nick had assumed. Maybe it is one of those open secrets which everyone finds so obvious that they never feel the need to discuss it.

It feels unlikely, frankly, but Nick doesn’t want to overstep any marks, not when he thought he was making a solid set of new friends. Schools are like weird elaborate games. Nick just wants to check that he’s playing by the same rules as everyone else.

So he goes to the one person who he knows for  _ certain _ that Louis is out to, and will only have Louis best interests in mind.

Namely; Liam.

“Sorry Nick, you are going to have to break that down a bit more thoroughly for me, because my brain isn’t computing it today. What are you asking me?”

Nick fidgets awkwardly with his water bottle, because while he’d heard other people describing Liam as intimidating, this is the first time that he’d actually realized it was true.

“I just wanted to check, um, is Louis okay with people knowing he is gay? I mean, I know that you and his friends know, but it isn’t a secret, or anything? Because I was having a conversation with him today, and things got weird fast.”

Liam flaps a hand, dismissing his notion entirely.

“There isn’t a secret - Louis' been open about it since he started at this school. You must have mis-read things.”

Nick shrugs one shoulder, because possibly, but Louis was definitely freaked out about something.

“Maybe. But he was upset. Could you tell him that I’m sorry when you see him tonight? I think I was insensitive.”

Liam frowns at him, and picks up his kit bag, hauling up onto his shoulder.

“Why are you asking me to do that?”

“Because you are his brother. He trusts you, more than me, probably.”

Liam doesn’t say anything, just looks at him for a couple of seconds, while Nick tries to figure out how to wrap up this conversation, because he is feeling increasingly awkward. He glances over his shoulder, towards the rest of the group, still involved in their training, hoping for a football emergency that he simply must attend.

“What were you even talking about to make Louis freak out?”

Nick spreads his hands, because it was just an innocent question.

“Just about whether Louis should be public about whoever this boy is that he is seeing - but apparently the answer is no, judging from the level of response I got. And no, I’m not asking you to tell me who the mystery guy is, but the whole thing has made me feel like I put my foot in things, somehow.”

Liam’s eyebrows flicker, but other than that there isn’t much of a reaction from him.

“Since when is Louis seeing someone?”

Nick’s eyes widen, because oh  _ shit _ .

“Oh, I don’t know if he is, or not. Just a weird conversation that we had… and besides, if he was, you’d know about it, I’m sure…”

Nick trails off, while Liam eyes him as if deciding whether throttling him would be worth the subsequent paper work.

But then his demeanor relaxes, and now Liam just looks  _ sad _ , and oh no, that is possibly even worse.

“You should get back to training Nick, before you run out of feet to put into things.”

… 

The journey to Louis' house feels awkward.

Or maybe it doesn’t - Harry can’t really tell. Louis greeted him in the same way as normal, and is recapping his day in the same way as normal, and is telling terrible jokes in the same way as normal.

It’s just that Harry’s heart is beating faster than normal, and he is gripping at the steering wheel like he is preventing himself from plummeting to his death.

Louis seems to notice, when they only have a couple more corners left to turn, and reaches out a hand, rubbing over Harry’s shoulder gently.

“Hey- are you okay?”

Harry nods, but something about his manner must be giving him away completely, because Louis sighs, and strokes a gently finger down Harry’s cheek.

“I really like you, okay? So unless you are about to tell me that you are a murderer, I don’t think-”

Harry cuts him off, not because he has anything to say, but because he doesn’t want Louis to say anything stupid.

“It is just here, right?”

He flicks on the indicator before Louis can answer, and Louis sits in silence, until murmuring out an instruction on which house to pull up in front of.

It is a quiet street. There is no real need for Harry to be feeling like he needs to duck down into his seat and hide from the world.

Louis grabs at his hand, and squeezes once. 

“Come on - we’ll get some food and then go. And if you want to pretend that you never said anything about big discussions, then that is cool. We can save it for another time.”

Harry nods, and lets Louis get out of the car first, before following suit and walking up an unfamiliar garden path.

He trusts Louis to understand, he thinks. It’s just that… well, Louis is of course going to want to ask Liam some questions.

And he doesn’t trust Liam to understand at all.

And then it is going to come down to a question of where do Louis' loyalties lie.

…

Louis isn’t nervous, exactly. But the way that Harry is behaving  _ is  _ making him hella nervous.

There is also something very weird about seeing Harry in his home, trailing his fingers across the kitchen counters, and looking at the pictures on the wall. Louis can’t help but think of it as some kind of divide shattering, as Harry is now no longer just a  _ school _ thing, but rather an everywhere thing. A Louis thing.

He’s wearing that hooded sweatshirt again, and Louis wonders if that is what Harry wears when he doesn’t know what to wear. Something safe and reliable.

He also looks like he doesn’t really know what to do with his hands, because his fingers are flexing awkwardly next to his thighs. It makes Louis want to reach out and hold both of his hands just to soothe him, but he decides that probably isn’t the way forward.

He opens the fridge instead.

“Um - what sort of thing did you want? I could make us some sandwiches, and there’s a couple of cans of soda…”

Louis trails off, and then looks over at Harry, who is starting at the family photo that his parents insisted on hanging up on the wall, despite him and Liam’s protests. They both look really young in it, and Liam has got both his arms wrapped around Louis' shoulders and is resting his chin on his head.

Harry sighs after a moment, and then meets Louis' eye, smiling unhappily.

“I owe you some answers.”

Louis shrugs with one shoulder, because it is now eating at him internally, and there is a limit to how long he can pretend that answers don’t matter.

“I feel like I’m missing a really big piece of a jigsaw puzzle, which is a bit frustrating because I know you are holding it, and… yeah.”

Harry comes a bit closer to Louis, and watches in silence as Louis turns back to the contents, just to have something to do.

He can’t help the sense of foreboding. 

Maybe this was a bad idea.

Harry clears his throat, but then doesn’t say anything for a couple of moments more.

“I guess. I mean; I’m sorry I didn’t explain this earlier. I was… I can’t expect you to keep it from Liam, because you guys are really close. So I wanted you to myself. For a bit. Before…”

Louis looks over to Harry after a moment, to check if there is anything else following that truncated sentence. There isn’t, just a look of extreme awkwardness.

“Liam wouldn’t give a shit.”

Harry shrugs, in body language that screams  _ he actually would _ .

Louis suddenly just wants to get this over with, whatever  _ this  _ is. So he fills in some blanks.

“Look, I’ve figured that this isn’t just a football vs track thing. It’s a you and Liam thing.”

Harry nods, and then bites at his lips.

“Uh, well, the football and the track thing is probably  _ because _ of the me and Liam thing.”

Louis tips his head to one side, and then nearly drops the tupperware that he is holding, because he has just been hit by a horrible,  _ horrible  _ idea.

“Oh  _ god _ , please don’t tell me that you and Liam were a  _ thing  _ thing, because I don’t know if I will be able to deal with that at  _ all _ , I mean-”

Harry pulls a face of pure horror, and then laughs, lets out this huge bubble of laughter, and reaches out a hand to Louis' shoulder for support.

“Oh my  _ god _ , no, no no no no, are you kidding me? That would be, oh my  _ god _ .” 

All of the tension goes draining out of the moment, and Louis can’t help but laugh in response, out of relief and the sheer ridiculousness of the idea.

“Oh shit, thank everything, because I’m not sure that my brain could have had any other response than a full scale aneurysm”

Harry laughs even harder at that, and then stills for a second, looking Louis in the eyes.

“How, I mean, I know you didn’t mean to, but you also somehow make everything better just by being a complete moron…”

Louis gasps out a  _ hey _ , and grins, but only for half a second, because Harry is rushing forward, and kissing him hard.

And it might only be Harry stalling from having to actually address the real problem, or a direct reaction to the removal of tension, but it feels a lot more than that.

It feels like Harry saying  _ I want you and I trust you and this is going to be hard but I think you are worth it _ , and all of it makes Louis grab at Harry’s hips, and pull him in closer, so their bodies are aligned, and Harry is pushing him backwards for support. And now Louis is pressed up against the kitchen counter, with Harry pressed into his front, and  _ oh my god _ , he thinks.  _ Oh my god _ .

Harry’s mouth is warm, and potent with maybes, and Louis runs his hands up the sides of Harry’s hoodie. Or at least, that is what he means to do, but somehow his hands run underneath the sweater material, so that his palms are on what feels like a very thin shirt, sliding fingers over a ribcage which is staccato with quick breaths.

Harry moans, and pushes forwards even harder, one hand resting on the counter to the side of Louis, and one reaching up to cup the back of Louis' head, as though trying to keep him there in the moment.

Louis isn’t going anywhere.

In fact, Louis is pretty focused on nothing other than making Harry moan into his mouth again.

Harry leans away slightly, to bite at Louis' lip, and Louis uses the opportunity to duck his head towards Harry neck, and run lips, and then tongue, over the pulse point just below Harry’s jaw line that has been driving Louis crazy since he can remember; possibly forever.

There’s a gasp, and a sigh, from above him, and Louis can tell that Harry has tipped his head back in order to give Louis better access, and some abstract part of Louis hopes that Harry has shut his eyes, to block out all the other senses.

This moment. It makes it all worth it.

“Oh shit- shit, what the fuck, sorry, I didn’t know… what the fuck?”

Louis' stomach falls out from beneath him a split second before his brain has a chance to go yeah, _ when you close the kitchen door you can’t really hear when someone comes in the front door. _

Harry thinks faster, and has already taken as many steps away from Louis as is possible without knocking down a wall. Louis looks over towards his brother, hoping against hope that maybe a few words will be able to smooth this entire thing out.

“Liam, don’t freak out…”

Liam holds up a dismissive hand in Louis' direction, and then points at Harry, glaring.

“You stay the  _ fuck _ away from him, you fucking maniac.”

“Liam, what the  _ fuck? _ ”

“Louis, you moron, shut up. And  _ you _ … you can get out of my damn house.”

Louis blinks at Harry, waiting for him to say something that makes sense, or at least stand up for himself, because they aren’t  _ doing anything wrong. _

But Harry just glances once at Louis, mouths  _ I’m sorry _ , and picks up his bag from the floor. He walks up to the door where Liam is standing, and Liam takes a big step back, as if Harry is contagious.

“Don’t even think that this is acceptable Styles, because this is a fucked up form of retaliation and I will make your life living hell if you even  _ look  _ at him again.” 

“Fuck you.”

Liam has his hands on his hips, and looks on the verge of throwing a punch, but Harry has already gone, striding out of their house and slamming the door.

There’s a silence, in which Liam presses his hands to his temples, and Louis realizes that he’s clutched at the counter behind him, just for something steady to hold on to.

“Liam… what the  _ fuck _ was all that about? Also, who gives you the right to-”

Liam rolls his eyes, and then glares at him.

“Don’t start Louis. I’m doing you a favor. He’s  _ straight _ , you fucking idiot.”

…


	17. Chapter Seventeen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello! This is an AU fanfiction - nothing is real.
> 
> As ever, thank you for reading, kudos-ing, bookmarking, leaving comments, etc - all appreciated.

The first thing that he does, when he gets into his car, is absolutely nothing.

Harry puts it into drive, smoothly pulls away, and spends the entire journey with the radio turned up as loud as he can, to try and drown out the ringing in his ears.

When he pulls up at his house, in the empty drive way because his parents aren’t home yet, Harry sits, staring into space.

_ You stay away from him, you fucking maniac  _ repeats in his head, and Harry worries that if he closes his eyes, he’ll be able to see the look of utter dejection on Louis’s face, when Harry walked away without explaining anything.

And by now Liam will have made his side of the story perfectly clear.

Fuck. Fuck fuck  _ fuck _ . Harry screws up his fists abruptly, and slams them down on the rim of his steering wheel a couple of times, hard enough for his bones to jar.

None of this is fucking  _ fair. _

In his room, his clothes are everywhere, and there are papers slipping out from his desk, and the whole place is a mess, which reflects Harry’s current state of mind with on point accuracy.

He throws himself down onto his bed, and calls Cara, because who else is there to call?

It connects after only a couple of rings, and Cara clears his throat, by way of greeting.

“I’m trying to decide whether you calling me now is a good thing or a bad thing… survived?”

Harry rolls onto his back, and pinches at the bridge of his nose, trying to remind himself that someone, somewhere, will be having a worse day than him, and being dramatic about it won’t help anyone. However it doesn’t do much to stop the break in his voice.

“Uh. No. It all went to shit, to be honest.”

Cara breaths out a big sigh, and groans once, before starting to talk calmly and methodically.

“What happened - I can’t believe that Louis wouldn’t hear your side of the story; the number of times that we’ve talked about how making a few mistakes doesn’t make you a bad person…”

Harry bites his lip, and screws up his eyes, because he is done with letting Liam Tomlinson make him cry, he  _ promised _ himself that he wouldn’t cry anymore. He forces his words out, trying to keep the emotion at bay.

“We didn’t even get to that point. Liam walked in before I could even start talking about it - we were in their house.”

“Oh - what and he went straight to the explosion?”

Harry puts his hand over his eyes, as the emotion replays and the embarrassment of being caught swells.

“We were, uh, we were making out, a bit.”

Cara makes a noise that sounds like a verbal eyeroll, and then mumbles “jeez, Styles, time your moments, why don’t you…?” Harry cuts across him, pushing on, because he doesn’t want to hear about how he  _ should  _ have played things. Harry anticipates that he’ll have enough time to reflect upon that.

“And so he yelled at me to get out, and, and my nerve failed, I guess. I left. And so by now Liam will have told Louis all about my fuck ups, and probably convinced him that I’m not gay, or I’m using him, or doing it for attention, or any of that old bullshit, and…  _ fuck _ , I knew that this was a bad idea - I’m not going through all of that again.”

Harry’s voice wobbles all over the place, for the final sentence, and he takes a deep breath in, trying to steady himself, so the tears don’t come. Cara turns all that information over for a few moments, and then sighs.

“Harry- If you were doing this for attention, you wouldn’t have been so focused on keeping it a secret; and if Louis’ got half a brain, he’ll figure that out.”

Nodding silently, Harry turns onto his side, checking the time by the clock on his bedside table and trying to calculate how long it will take for Liam to systematically assassinate his character in front of Louis eyes. He clears his throat, trying to make Cara remember what Liam is like.

“Liam is persuasive though; you saw how he systematically turned the entire football team against me. It was a fucking smear campaign.”

Cara shushes him, which is good, because Harry could sense that he was a couple of sentences further from losing control.

“Hey. Take a deep breath. You’re both older, now. It’s old news to everyone else. It isn’t going to happen again.”

Harry blinks a few times, trying to take Cara’s comments as the truth, for his own sanity’s sake. Cara manages to be correct about a lot of things, maybe this will be one of those times, too.

Except…

“It’s old news to everyone except Louis.”

Cara goes quiet, and Harry can just imagine, the color and the force, with which Liam is filling in the gaps in Louis’ knowledge. After a moment, Cara sighs, again.

“Well, you’ll just have to trust him to figure out what the truth is, then.”

…

Louis thinks that, if their mom came home now, they’d both be grounded for the rest of their natural lives.

Because they are  _ yelling _ at each other, and have been doing so for the last ten minutes, and Louis can’t remember if they’ve ever argued like this.

He returns to his original point, which is that Liam’s idea of Harry not being gay, or bisexual, or whatever, is pretty stupid and goes against  _ all _ the evidence that Louis has gathered so far.

“Liam, this is so fucking stupid - he’s been acting pretty gay.”

Liam winces, as if this makes it worse, some how, and rolls his eyes, crossing his arms in front of him with jerky movements.

“Oh like you’d know, of course you think he’s been acting pretty gay - you’re so innocent, you take everyone at face value. Cause I bet he has been acting pretty gay; but the point is that that’s all he’s doing - acting.”

Louis tries not to let it show on his face, but he feels like he has been punched in the stomach. He feels his anger flare in retaliation.

“What the fuck- why are you doing this? Why can’t you just stay out of things; we were doing just fine apart from the weird Liam cloud that was constantly hanging over us.”

Liam points at him, jabbing a digit towards him as if he has to let out the physically energy  _ somehow _ .

“Why don’t you trust me? Why didn’t you tell me - I could have warned you about him sooner. When have I ever not been completely and one hundred percent on your side?”

Louis boggles at him, and then holds his head in his hands, because this still isn’t making sense.

“Just- but I don’t understand… why would he do all this if he didn’t like me?”

Liam looks as though he barely refrains from snarling, and stalks over to the sink, running himself  a drink of water with sharp, jerky movements.

“My god, could you not have chosen to do this one a day when my head didn’t feel like it was going to explode?..because he’s fucked up and is using you to get back at me. Because he thinks that he can have anything he wants.”

Louis crosses his arms in front of him, and paces around in a small pointless circle, before realizing that there is a far more straight-forward way to deal with all this.

“Oh, fuck off Liam, that doesn’t even make any sense… I’m going to call him.”

Liam nearly drops the glass, and looks like he’s about to rip the phone out of Louis’ hand.

“Just - don’t, okay? Why can’t you just trust me?”

Liam’s voice cracks a little on the last word, and it is  _ only _ that which has Louis stalling, fingers hovering over the touch screen. He gapes at Liam, unsure as to why Liam can’t see how completely unreasonable he is being.

“Because you aren’t giving me anything to trust! I’m still waiting for some kind of explanation from either of you.”

Liam looks away, jutting his jaw out.

“And what if I don’t want to talk about it?”

Louis rolls his eyes, because this is  _ unbelievable _ .

“Oh sure Liam, and what if that isn’t good enough?”

Liam glares at him, and then wilts slightly, holding up a hand in request for a pause and taking a few big gulps of water.

“Just… not tonight, okay? Please? I’ll tell you, but not tonight; I feel like I’m going to pass out. Just don’t call him, okay, cause he’ll pour poison down your ears about me. Trust me that much, okay? Sixteen years of being your big brother - trust me that much, will you?”

Louis doesn’t know what to trust anymore. But there’s is something in Liam’s eyes…

He nods once, in agreement.

…

Liam is thankful, in a strange way, that he is as exhausted as he is. Otherwise, when he gets up to his room, and slams the door behind him, there would have been a strong likelihood of him trashing it, just to have something to use the excess energy on.

As it is, he calls Niall, because Niall’s memories is as good as his.

“Hi - I’ve just had the worst fucking surprise, and it turns out that Louis has been hiding things from me, and you are just going to have to sit there and listen while I process.”

Niall snorts, and then sighs.

“Ughhh - I have a feeling I can already guess what kind of surprise this might be.”

Liam grits his teeth, because yeah, he’s feeling pretty stupid on that front, too.

“Yeah, I have a feeling that you have pretty accurate feeling about it too, and we need to have a chat about since when you keep Louis’ secrets from me, at some point… but let’s just play along, for now.”

Niall absorbs all this in silence, and then tuts.

“Go on then.”

“I just came home to find Louis making out with Harry  _ fucking _ Styles in my own goddamn kitchen.”

Niall groans, and then says “And what did you do?”

“Threw him out, of course; not that he made much of an effort to stay.”

Liam lets the moment of silence slide, because he is pretty much still _vibrating_ with rage, and he needs Niall to at least see why the anger is justified, why Harry Styles has taken it _too_ _far_ , this time.

Instead he gets Niall sighing at him again.

“Liam- you didn’t even like Sarah, that much.”

Liam rolls his eyes, because this territory has been covered so thoroughly, it is ridiculous.

“Niall, that isn’t the point and you know it.”

“Then what is the point? I thought that we were done with this - I thought that we were in truce mode.”

Liam nods stiffly, because they had been in truce mode, but that was before Harry decided to manipulate his younger brother’s emotions to try and get at him. And talk about playing dirty - talk about going for Liam’s weak spot. In fact, the more he thinks about it, the angrier he gets. His words come out of a tightly constricted throat.

“The point is that he is just using Louis to make some kind of fucked up point to me. About his supposed gayness, when everyone knows that it is a lie - you remember how he behaved?”

Niall grunts, and Liam can tell that he is rolling his shoulders, like he does when he is looking for an easy way to phrase a difficult idea.

“… from what I remember, you weren’t exactly on best behavior, either.”

Liam closes his eyes in a wince, because, yes, true, but he was hoping to leave the deconstruction of the past for another time.

“I was hurt, okay?  I had an excuse.”

Niall hums in agreement, and that is the only thing that stops Liam from ending the call.

“You are right, of course, I know. I was just checking that you hadn’t airbrushed the truth too thoroughly - memories play tricks sometimes.”

Liam grumbles, because he sort of hates it when Niall goes all rational. He repeats his previous thought as an automatic defense mechanism.

“I had an excuse.”

Niall clears his throat, about to say what Liam doesn’t want to hear.

“True. But is Louis going to understand that?”

Liam sits down on the edge of his bed, and presses his hand to his forehead, trying to prevent his head from exploding.

“Jesus, Ni- Are you  _ deliberately  _ trying to make me feel like shit, or…?”

…

The sun sets earlier, these days, and by the time Harry finishes his call with Cara, dusk has fallen heavily.

He tosses his phone on his bed besides him, and hugs his pillow to himself, trying to breathe steadily.

Cara had concluded that Louis would get in touch with Harry at some point tonight, because even if Liam did re-tell the whole story with his own unique interpretation, Louis would definitely want to double check  the reality of what was being suggested.

Harry can hear someone moving around downstairs, and leans over towards his window, to see his mom’s car sitting in the driveway.

He checks his phone.

Harry has got a couple of assignments due in tomorrow, and stretches for his bag, tugging it up onto the bed and unearthing the folders that he needs. He flicks through the pages to the correct sheet, and stares at it for a long moment, un-seeing.

He checks his phone.

After an hour, his mom knocks at his door, asking him what he wants for dinner. Harry answers with a half truth, that he isn’t feeling well, and so will come get something later.

He checks his phone.

The assignment is difficult, and Harry bumbles his way through it, aware that nearly nothing that he is writing makes sense, but at least he is doing it, at least this counts as being productive.

He checks his phone.

Nothing.

He isn’t going to cry any more tears. Harry had told himself that he wasn’t going to give Liam any more tears - he doesn’t break promises lightly.

However, when midnight rolls around, and Harry still hasn’t heard anything, he realizes that it isn’t Liam who he is waiting to get in touch.

It’s Louis who is choosing to ignore him.

Harry hasn’t made any promises to himself about not allowing Louis to make him cry, and that’s why it is okay, he tells himself, as tears start to roll down his cheeks.

This is okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You should have enough vague details and hints to be able to piece it all together.   
> But Liam's full explanation is next chapter.


	18. Chapter Eighteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello! This is an AU fanfiction - nothing is real.  
> As ever, thank you for reading, bookmarking, kudos-ing, leaving comments, etc - all appreciated.

**Chapter Eighteen**

Louis wakes up with a frown on his face,  _ before  _ he’s even remembered what he is frowning about.

He leans over to his bedside table to check his phone, but there is no message from Harry. And Louis can’t help but think that maybe that is because it should have been Louis who initiated contact first.

But Liam had asked him not to.

He  _ does _ trust his sister.

But that thread feels like it is being stretched to breaking point, and there is a frosty silence over the breakfast table, as their mom looks between the two of them with concern.

“Everything okay, you two?”

Louis says “fine” just as Liam says ‘never better”, in the least convincing performance the world has seen. Their mom observes them for a second longer, and then shrugs, clearly deciding that she hasn’t got time for this, this morning.

“Go on then, champs, out of the house, you’re going to be late. Liam, give your brother a ride, will you.”

Louis traipses out to the car, following his brother, and gets in without a word, sticking his earphones in and staring steadfastly out of the window. Liam ignores him, and starts the engine, reversing them off their driveway smoothly.

He’s now angry at the lack of information, because Liam clearly has no intention of telling him why he shouldn’t go near Harry, but instead just expects Louis to swallow the pill, no questions asked. He decides that the first thing that he is going to do when they arrive is go and find Harry, apologize for not calling, announce that his brother is crazy, and try and smooth things over. And if Liam explodes, well it isn’t as though Louis hasn’t tried to give him time to explain.

Just as Louis firms up his intentions, something drifts across his consciousness, calling attention to the fact that something isn’t happening as it should.

“Liam - this isn’t the route to school?”

Liam shrugs, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.

“No, I know; we’re bunking off.”

Louis gapes at him for a second, as Liam glances over blankly, and then checks his mirror.

“What? No we are not - you can’t do that.”

Liam takes a right, and now they are one hundred percent heading in the opposite direction to school, and at the very least going to be late, because the next exit is ten minutes away in the rush hour traffic.

“Yeah I can - I’ll take the blame for it. Nothing I haven’t done before. You can claim that you were kidnapped, if you want. With your unblemished record, you’d definitely get away with it.”

Louis realizes that this is the moment when he knows for certain that his brother is actually crazy.

“But you are my brother -they’d never believe you kidnapped me.”

Liam snorts, and gives him a look to say  _ do you not know of my reputation at all? _

“Well, unless you are up for jumping out of a moving vehicle, it is pretty much the truth, because I’m not stopping.”

…

The rest of the journey is completed in silence, and Liam thinks that the only reason that he is getting away with this is because Louis' need for answers is outweighing his need for education.

He drives them down to the beach that they used to go to with their parents, when family trips to the beach were still a thing. The wind is cool, but not cutting, and Liam walks steadfastly out to the rocks that they used to sit on, aware that he is being trailed by a reluctant Louis.

Liam sits, and then stares over at Louis, who observes him with his arms crossed for a moment, and then shrugs.

“So?”

Liam gestures at their surroundings, stalling.

“We should come back here, more often, don’t you think? We’ve not been for  _ ages _ .”

Louis kicks at the sand underneath his feet pointlessly for a moment, and then glares at him.

“I’m still really pissed at you, by the way. I’ve just not got any energy to yell, this morning.”

Liam groans, and shifts, trying to get comfortable on the rock beneath him. Because he understands why Louis is annoyed, but now Liam needs to actually justify why this is all for his own good. He spreads his hands out wide.

“Here are the headlines - Harry isn’t gay, and he’s using you.”

A flicker of unreadable emotion passes over Louis' face, and but it gets squashed down immediately, and Liam can tell that Louis is fighting really hard to not explode all over again.

“You’ve already said that - I’m going to need something more concrete than that, or I will fucking  _ walk _ to his house and explain that my brother is a moron and I should never have even hesitated about dismissing his stupid claims.”

Liam heaves out a sigh, because he’s going to have to explain, but he really doesn’t like leaving this section of his life open for Louis' judgement.

“Okay… fuck, okay, firstly know that I am not proud about my behavior, but he deserved it.”

That probably isn’t the best sentence to start with, Liam decides, from the way that Louis' frown manages to get even deeper. He pushes on, ignoring him.

“Sarah Hyland. The senior on the track team who thirsty sophomore me was chasing all year.”

Louis nods shortly, looking unsurprised, and Liam keeps going.

“We got together a month or so before her Nationals. Kind of. It was a bit casual on reflection, but  _ everyone _ knew that me and her were nearly a thing…”

Liam trails off when Louis rolls his eyes, and then looks away, jamming his hands in his jacket pockets with force.

“Cut the crap Liam, I’ve already guessed; Sarah decides all of a sudden that she likes Harry, and you and your hurt pride start some kind of hate campaign against him in retaliation.”

Liam bridles slightly, against his will, because even though he is trying to remember that Louis does have genuine reasons for being angry, it doesn’t make it easy to be spoken too with such venom.

“Okay, you ass, just because you are my brother doesn’t mean you get to be a complete dick to me - I haven’t finished yet. Also, I’m trying to look after you. That’s all I  _ ever _ try and do.”

Louis grits his jaw, but says nothing, staring out into the ocean. Liam takes this as permission to carry on.

“So, anyway, what you maybe are not grasping, is that at this point, Harry is this nobody freshman who none of the girls are interested in. He’s cute, yeah, but so shy that I’d sometimes not notice that he was in the room.”

Louis looks like he’s about to jump in, and try and claim that Harry is secretly the life and soul of the party, but then swallows down whatever half formed protests with a nod.

“Go on.”

“But then, completely out of the blue, all of the girls in the track team are suddenly focused on him, and talking to him, and about him, because  _ apparently _ Harry has had this overnight discovery about the fact that he is gay. Or Bi. Or whatever.  _ Overnight _ , Louis. And so of course he is the talk of town, as if he’s just announced that he has discovered a new color - all this fake shyness and sweet little smiles, and  _ ugh _ . Remember that this was also at pretty much the same point that I’d figured that you were struggling with trying to decide how to tell  _ us _ that you were gay. So all of this pretend revelation from Harry pissed me off, because he was so easy about the whole thing. All; ‘Oh, whoops, look at me, I’m gay; everyone come and talk to me.’”

It’s a lot of words for Louis to take in at once, and Liam can tell that he is reflecting for a moment, trying to pick out which parts are the important parts. When he speaks, it is slowly, as if he is still trying to process.

“Coming out is different for lots of people Liam, it doesn’t give you the right to-”

Liam cuts across him, because he needs Louis to figure this out  _ now _ .

“No, but, you don’t  _ understand _ ; he wasn’t coming out. He was pretending to, because he had figured that he needed something to make him interesting. And so, of course, guess who was suddenly super interested? All the girls on the track team. Including-”

Louis beats him to it, and groans, slightly.

“Including Sarah.”

Liam widens his eyes at Louis briefly, waggling his head because he’d like some recognition that he isn’t  _ completely  _ crazy.

“Yeah, exactly; she went from being mine, my  _ exclusive  _ territory, to suddenly having lots of friendly cosy little chats with the oh so innocent, apparently bisexual, freshman on the track team. She called it ‘mentoring’. I called it as creepy as fuck.”

Louis sits down abruptly, on a rock a few feet from Liam, and rests his head on his hands. He nods vaguely, as if trying to arrange this new knowledge in his head, as Liam continues, struggling to keep the passion out of his voice because he is still  _ outraged _ , when he thinks about it.

“And then he has the audacity to tell me to back off, that me and him were never really a thing.  _ And then _ , oh gosh, what a surprise, a couple of weeks after Nationals, Sarah and Harry are dating. And it turns out that maybe Harry isn’t anything other than straight after all.”

Louis looks over at Liam a moment later, and there is still doubt in his eyes, but Liam has a vague inkling that it isn’t directed at solely towards him, anymore.

“But, just because you are dating a boy, doesn’t mean that you aren’t still bisexual.”

Liam nods, because  _ yes _ , he does understand how bisexuality works. It is just that he is pretty damn convinced that Harry Styles was never playing by those rules.

“It does if, any time anyone mentions it, you suddenly claim that you were just joking, just a silly mistake, that the whole thing was some kind of fucked up prank. He said that he was actually straight, and he didn’t mean it, and it was somehow my fault that the rumors had spread as far as they did. I mean, what the  _ fuck _ , Louis. Who does that? The fact that he stole Sarah isn’t even the point. The point is that he is some fucked up attention seeking crazy who lies about important things… and then you tell me I’m over-reacting when I find him sucking the face of my younger brother in my kitchen? He’s deranged. I think I under-reacted, frankly.  _ Under _ -reacted.”

…

Louis doesn’t know what to think.

It’s too much, to fit immediately in his head, and Louis spends another fruitless half hour, asking Liam questions, about  _ exactly _ what was said, and the specific tone in which it was said. And of course it is fruitless because this was nearly two years ago now, and Liam can’t remember the exacts, anymore, can only fill in Louis' knowledge with broad brushstrokes.

Very quickly, it becomes too much, and Louis asks to be taken home, so that he can process.

Liam tilts his head to one side.

“You sure you don’t want to be dropped off at school? You could probably convince them that you had a dentist appointment…”

Louis shakes his head, because the idea of having to be in public feels terrible, and the idea of having to meet Harry’s eye even worse.

He can’t understand why Harry wouldn’t tell him all this himself - wouldn’t explain it from the start.

Unless a fraction of it is true…

Even a fraction feels too much.

“No, Liam; home.”

The drive is conducted in complete silence, because Louis has got nothing to say, and Liam doesn’t seem to be inclined to fill in the gaps. When they arrive at their empty house, Liam reaches over and squeezes at his knee, briefly.

“Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, Lou.”

Louis nods, and then takes himself up to his room, closing the door carefully behind him.

He has a lot of pent up… _ something _ , inside him, but squashes it down, doesn’t even kick his sneakers off, instead bends down to methodically untie the laces and places them carefully by the door.

There are a number of pieces of school work that he can be working on, so Louis tells himself that he will not be hiding underneath the covers, reading every text message from Harry and replaying every shared moment in his head, looking for clues of possible deceit. Instead he will use this time productively, and get ahead in his work so that the process of catching up doesn’t seem too audous.

He deliberately avoids the Chemistry assignment, because that reminds him of Harry, but works through all of his other tasks, like an automaton.

Why would Harry be interested in him if it wasn’t to get back at Liam? He’s in the year above, talented, funny, gorgeous… whereas Louis is… a dork with a fondness for school work.

The thought nearly makes him snap the tip of his art pencil against his work, and he puts it down for a second, rubbing a hand over his face and returning to his work with a grimace.

Harry had been so nervous about telling him, yesterday… maybe it was because he had been about to tell Louis that this was all a joke that he had taken too far to prove a point to Liam - that he wasn’t actually that gay at all.

Louis grits his teeth, and tells himself that he is being stupid, because no-one kisses like that unless they are at least a little bit a gay.

Harry must know what Liam is saying about him; surely the reason that he hasn’t tried to tell Louis his side of the story is because there is only one side of the story. The one Liam has just told him.

Louis gives up on his latest art disaster, and stands up, looking at himself in the mirror, and pushing the hair out of his eyes.

He trusts Liam to always have his best intentions. It’s just that first is the first time that being on the receiving end of those best intentions has  _ hurt _ so much.

His phone buzzes on the table, ,and Louis has to restrain from flinging himself towards it.

It isn’t Harry.

It’s Nick.

_ Hiiii - hope you feel better soon? I just wanted to check in with you, because I feel like I did the wrong thing yesterday. Possibly lots of wrong things. I don’t know. I’m sorry. It wasn’t intentional. We’ll talk properly the next time I see you - I promise to take things more seriously, next time. Let me know that you are okay, okay? _

Louis sighs, and puts his phone back down on his desk, registering with only a small start of surprise that it is now the end of the school day.

No, he thinks. Everything is not okay.

His phone buzzes again.

_ Hey - we’re outside. Come talk to us! x _

_ … _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are you all okay?


	19. Chapter Nineteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello! This is an AU fanfiction - nothing is real.
> 
> As ever, thank you for reading, kudos-ing, bookmarking, leaving comments, etc - all appreciated.
> 
> …

**Chapter Nineteen**

Eleanor shakes her head, after they watch the third car that has meandered down Louis' quiet street since they messaged, and then crosses her arms.

“He’s not going to come. Seriously, we should just knock, he can’t send us away without looking really strange.”

Zayn wags a firm finger under Eleanor’s nose, and frowns.

“Nope, not doing that, because Liam will either listen to our conversation, or have found a way to bug his room.”

Eleanor rolls her eyes, because she’s pretty sure that this conversation needs less drama, not more, and then widens her eyes when Zayn starts picking up small pebbles from the ground.

“No, Z- that only happens in nineties movies, we can’t start throwing rocks at his window. Can you just drive me home please- Louis clearly doesn’t want to talk.”

Zayn frowns up at her from his crouched position on the sidewalk, and then mumbles ‘gee, it would be a hell of a lot easier to be the loveable pair of sidekicks in the rom com if you weren’t on such a downer… he might just be asleep. We need to alert him to our presence.”

“Okay,  _ one _ stone, but I swear, one of these days you are going to get us arrested… oh, wait, he’s here.”

Zayn leaps up, as Louis closes the front door behind him, and traipses out towards them, looking sheepish.

“Hey guys; I’m sick, so…”

Eleanor snorts despite herself, as Zayn scoffs, and then throws an arm around Louis' shoulders.

“No you are not, don’t lie - you and Liam bunked off school today, and can I for one just say that I am so  _ proud _ . My little boy, skipping his first day of school…”

Louis' mouth quirks at the corners, but then he shrugs away from Zayn’s affections, muttering “shut up Zayn”, in a sentiment that Eleanor can fully understand, because this is clearly a situation which needs delicate handling. She clears her throat.

“So, um, Nick might have said to us that he was worried that he’d spilled a secret to Liam, yesterday. And even though he didn’t really know what the secret was… we saw Harry today, and he looked…”

Eleanor hesitates for a second, looking for a delicate word, but Zayn jumps into the gap.

“Like shit.”

Louis grimaces, and looks down at the sidewalk, pushing the sleeves of his sweater up his arms guiltily. Eleanor tries to fix things.

“Really sad, is what Zayn means. And so we figured that maybe…?”

Louis looks up at her, and Eleanor can tell that he hasn’t had much sleep, from the tiredness around his eyes.

“So are you two just here for details, or-?”

Zayn cuffs him around the back of the head, gently.

“No, moron. Just to see if there is anything we can do. And to check that you are okay.”

Louis shrugs a couple of times, and then folds his arms suddenly, glancing back up at his house.

“Yeah… not really. Turns out that Liam might have a genuine point. Um. Or at least a reason to not be cool with me and Harry. Or at least… has made me start to wonder… And… I don’t know, I don’t know what to believe.”

Eleanor rubs a hand over her face, because she had always had a suspicion, a vague niggle, that maybe the entire track vs football team was a bit more personal than Liam ever let on. She tries to keep on track.

“Have you talked to Harry yet?”

Louis shakes his head, biting at his lip.

“No… not had a chance. Also - I kind of don’t want Liam to think that I don’t trust him…”

Zayn snorts in derision at this point, which Eleanor thinks is entirely justifiable.

“It isn’t a lack of trust Louis - think like a historian. Collect multiple sources with inevitable bias, and then you can decide what the truth is.”

Zayn looks at both of them for a moment, and then holds his hands out.

“Hey, what, I can’t give sensible advice? Don’t look at me like that.”

Eleanor shakes her head, and refocuses on Louis.

“Also, Louis, and I say this with the best intentions, but  _ fuck _ family honor for a moment- this isn’t Game of Thrones. Go visit him - Zayn can drive you.”

Louis blinks at her for a moment, and as though startled by Eleanor’s sudden use of profanity, and then frowns.

“I don’t know… also, even if I did, I’ve realized that I don’t know where he lives, which is another thing that feels really weird, because he knows where I live, so why is the whole thing so unbalanced…”

Zayn clears his throat loudly, before Louis can spiral into a tailspin of whys.

“I think I do. Know where he lives. Or at least the street - I think he only lives around the corner from me.”

Louis hesitates, but Eleanor is not letting Louis self sabotage to  _ this _ extent. She tugs at his sleeve.

“Lou, come  _ on _ , do now, regret later, huh?”

…

It’s been an exceptionally bad day.

Harry had almost no lessons with Cara today, due to the adjustments to his timetable, and it means that he’s had to try to be normal, and interact in a socially acceptable manner.

He struggled with a headache for the whole day, and got chewed out in at least two separate lessons for a lack of preparation, and along he can’t really concentrate, because he is too busy replaying the look of disgust on Liam’s face, and wondering how the same expression would fit onto Louis' features.

The transition is depressingly easy.

He’s pissed off, he realizes, some time around lunch. Because Louis hasn’t made the slightest effort to contact him. As if that entire scene didn’t matter, and needed no explanation.

Harry thinks that Liam will not have been shy in explaining his side of the story.

Cara catches him at some point towards the end of recess, and squeezes his shoulder.

“Neither of them are in school today - I just checked.”

Harry shrugs, because meeting Cara’s eye is difficult at the moment. Cara sighs after a second, and blows her hair out of her eyes.

“This all could have been avoided if you had just talked to Louis about this sooner; you knew it was going to come up eventually.”

Harry bites his lip, because a simple truth isn’t always the easiest thing to hear, and then looks away. He unwillingly meets the eye of another boy, who he recognises as one of Louis' friends, and Harry can’t prevent the flinch in his gut as he wonders whether Louis called them, rather than just calling him.

It’s too much, abruptly.

“I’m going to the library. I need to study.”

Cara looks like she opens her mouth to say something, but then closes it.

“Okay. See you later.”

Harry nods once, and then leaves, clutching his folders closer to his chest.

…

The rest of the day passes like a bad dream, and it seems an eternity before Harry can close his bedroom door, and stop pretending.

He’s bunked of track again, and this might the moment when all of the coach’s empty threats translate into something more real.

Harry finds that he doesn’t care, in this moment.

His desk is full of rogue sheets of paper, but Harry sits on his bed instead, and checks his phone.

Nothing.

He sighs, and hangs his head for a moment, trying to remember that he’s fine, everything will be fine again, at some point in the future.

Then his phone starts buzzing in his hands.

It’s Louis.

Harry abruptly panics, because even though he wants to speak to Louis, he now also doesn’t, and the conflict nearly makes him throw the phone against the wall.

He doesn’t though, instead pressing the appropriate button, and holding the phone to his ear. He sighs before answering flatly.

“Hey.”

Louis clears his throat a few times before speaking.

“Hey. Um.”

Harry doesn’t say anything, because he doesn’t feel like helping Louis out at the moment. He can tell from the quality of the background noise that Louis is outside somewhere.

Louis clears his throat again.

“Sorry I’ve not been in touch before - just a lot to process, you know. But I’d like to talk. If you want. I’m - I think I’m on your street somewhere; thought it might be easier face to face.”

Harry frowns instinctively, because he doesn’t think he has told Louis where he lives, and stands up, taking a couple of steps over to his window, squinting his eyes against the late afternoon sun.

Louis is out there, four houses away from his own, facing the opposite way with one hand on his hip. Harry is thankful that he put his car in the garage when he got home, because Louis has got no indicator of which door to knock on. So instead he is standing next to a car which looks like it contains Louis' two main friends, and Harry finds himself rolling his eyes at the idea of Louis bringing back-up.

He’s angrier than he realized. And when Louis turns around, Harry flinches away from the window, moving to one side and hiding behind the frame.

“Harry?”

“What has Liam told you?”

Louis pauses, and then breathes in slowly, as though considering the safest path to tread.

“Uh. A lot.”

Harry snorts unwillingly, because  _ yeah _ , he bets Liam has been running his mouth off all day.

“And you just let him? You didn’t think to ask me at all?”

It’s sharp in his mouth, but Harry is glad that he is going down this route, rather than just bursting into tears. Louis sighs, and Harry watches as he pushes a hand through his hair.

“That’s not… Harry, he pretty much just kidnapped me. Be reasonable.”

Louis sounds weary, though that is nothing compared to how tired Harry is, of this whole stupid discussion that Liam seems incapable of letting go. He bites out another sentence, as far from reasonable as he can manage.

“And did he steal your cell-phone, last night? You could have fucking called me Louis.”

Harry’s voice cracks when he swears, which is something he’d really rather have not happened, because he wants to sound strong right now, not weak. Louis' voice softens in response, and Harry doesn’t want this swell of emotions.

“Harry… I’m here now. Come on, let’s talk.”

Harry leans his head on the window frame, refusing to succumb, because Louis can’t just stroll over here when he feels like it and expect Harry to ignore the previous radio silence.

“Too late, Louis. I needed you last night.”

Louis looks at his shoes, and then kicks a pebble away aimlessly. Harry stops watching because maybe that will be easier.

Louis doesn’t say anything for another moment, and Harry remembers something else to say.

“And will Liam be in school tomorrow…?”

“Yeah, but-”

Harry doesn’t let Louis continue, because he knows how to be angry at Liam, this is a well practiced theme, and one that he can assume with great ease.

“Oh, so great, no doubt that means the entire fucking school will think it has the right to debate my sexual orientation, again, because your fucking brother is a psychopath.”

“Harry, come on, he isn’t that-”

Harry interrupts again, because anger feels like the only way to get out of this with anything close to dignity.

“So you believe  _ him _ , huh? That’s your choice?”

Louis voice goes a notch sharper with the question, and Harry is grateful, in a way. An argument is easier with two people.

“ _ God _ \- Liam won’t say anything if I ask him not to; he’s not some kind of monster. And, well, if you aren’t even going to talk to me… Who else am I supposed to believe? You aren’t giving me anything to believe, other than that you are just using me as some weird kind of point proving exercise to Liam…”

It comes like a kick in the guts, because unless Louis really thinks that Harry has been lying all this time-

He makes an abrupt decision, and turns away from his window.

“Get off my street Louis. Just- go away. I’m not coming out to discuss this just because you’ve decided that  _ you _ need to talk about this now. That’s not how this works.”

Harry hangs up before he can change his mind, and throws it at his bed, before storming away into the bathroom just to have a  _ different  _ door to slam.

He’s used to being angry at Liam.

Being angry at Louis is a whole new emotion.

…

Louis lets the drive back happen in silence.

When Zayn pulls up at his house, he clears his throat, and then glances at Eleanor, who is in the passenger seat.

“So. Um. That didn’t go well then?”

Louis unbuckles his seatbelt, and flexes his hands a few times, trying to work away the nervous energy and not burst into tears.

“No. Not exactly.”

Eleanor sighs, and turns in her seat slightly, making eye contact.

“It’s good to have gone to speak to him though Lou; if I was Harry then-”

Louis reaches for the door handle abruptly, not willing to hear how Harry might be feeling right now.

“Bye guys. See you tomorrow.”

Louis doesn’t mean to slam the door behind him, but he thinks that he maybe does close it too hard behind him anyway.

Too late to go back and apologize.

…

Liam isn’t feeling guilty, because he isn’t doing anything but protect his brother’s future emotions. Better to know now that Harry is a crazy manipulator, rather than discover it later down the line.

However, when Louis stomps back into their house, and slumps against the front door, pressing his palms to his eyes to avoid tears, Liam does wish that it could have been someone else who had been the bearer of bad news.

He goes to sit next to him on the door mat, and puts his arm around his shoulders, choosing to ignore the way that Louis tenses up.

“Sorry Lou. If you’d mentioned it earlier, then I could have-”

Louis shifts away from him, and holds up a hand.

“You know, I’m sick of hearing how this entire fucking mess is somehow my fault.”

Liam sits for a moment in silence, not sure what to say. Louis stands up, looking down at him.

“Okay. I need to be more honest, do I? Well, this is me telling you that I’m going to go ask Niall for his version of events, tomorrow. Because I’d like to actually hear from someone who isn’t filtering whatever shit went down through their own personal veil of outrage. That okay? That honest enough?”

Liam sighs, realizing slightly too late that maybe Louis is not in the best sort of mood to have a comforting conversation. He rubs a hand over his face.

“Wow. You really don’t trust me at all, do you?”

It probably wasn’t the best thing to say, he decides, as Louis swears at him, and disappears up the stairs.

… 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next part in a couple of days!


	20. Chapter Twenty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello! This is an AU fanfiction - nothing is real. 
> 
> As ever, thank you for reading, kudos-ing, bookmarking, leaving comments, etc - all appreciated.
> 
> …

**Chapter Twenty**

Harry stays off school for the next two days.

Louis tries not to let it get to him, but it does. He is out of sorts, listless in class, and is aware that he is skimming any work that he has to do.

He avoids Liam, because Louis really doesn’t want to know.

He also makes a pretty good effort at avoiding everyone, because Louis wants to process this in his own head, and he knows that Zayn and Eleanor in particular will try and make him calm down, make him see sense.

Louis thinks that he wants to be angry, for a while.

Because there are two possible explanations for Harry’s behaviour, as far as he can tell.

Either what Liam is saying is true, and it was all some weird fucked up game in which nothing was real and Harry was pretending every time.

(That option feels unlikely, because those kisses felt  _ real _ . Louis doesn’t think,  _ can’t  _ think, that it was all a lie.)

The second option is equally unpalatable, however. And it involves Harry planning on hiding him and Louis forever, and expecting Louis to live in a constant state of confusion and secrecy. As though he and Harry weren’t a thing which would ever deserve public acknowledgement.

As though Louis wasn’t important enough to take on Liam for.

The second option is a little confused in his head, and the more Louis thinks about it the more he has to acknowledge that it doesn’t make complete sense, and maybe he isn’t being fully rational.

But he is  _ pissed off _ .

Louis fails to find Niall the first day. Or rather, fails to find him alone - he sees him a few times around the corridors, but Liam is always there, always glaring. Louis glares back, because it had been another twenty four hours of yelling and door slamming.

It is only at the end of the second day that he actually manages to catch Niall alone. And it is hardly stealthy, because Liam sees him approaching, and sets his hands on his hips.

“Jeez,  _ fine _ , Louis. Ni, I’ve got practice. And my little brother wants to ask you some questions about whether I’m delusional or not. So, you know. Answer at will.”

Niall shoots him an inscrutable look, and Liam flaps a hand in a dismissive gesture, turning away on his heel.

“Yeah- honestly. I’ve nothing to hide. Unlike some people, who are suddenly pretty good at hiding things…”

Louis flips him off, and only about ten percent of the gesture is joking. Liam returns the compliment, and marches away.

Niall shuffles awkwardly on his crutches, and then shrugs at him.

“I have a feeling this might take a while - where do you want to go?”

…

Niall can’t fully work it out, but something about the way Louis is holding himself suggests that he isn’t completely comfortable in this cafe. Which is odd, because it was Louis who said this would be a good place to come.

Louis shifts nervously on his seat, and then shrugs, answering Niall’s unasked question.

“They have good muffins.”

Well, that explains nothing, but Niall nods supportively, because Louis looks really unhappy, and lord knows years of hanging around with Liam means that Niall has got some pretty hard wired protective impulses, when it comes to mini-Tommo. That sort of thing doesn’t just get shut off.

Niall decides that might be a good place to start.

“Liam is just looking out for you. That’s his  _ only _ motivation.”

Louis shoots Niall a look, and then shrugs, toying with the handle of his mug absently.

“Yeah… I know. I do actually know that his intentions are good. I just feel like- I’d just some answers. And Harry isn’t saying  _ anything  _ to me, and Liam is, well, I  _ trust  _ him... but I also don’t want it to be true.”

Niall sighs, and then takes a mouthful of muffin, which is good, true to review.

“You’ve had a shit few days, haven’t you?”

Louis nods, and rubs at his temples, vaguely.

“Yeah, pretty much. I’m guessing Liam has already filled you in on most of it…”

“Yup.”

“So…?”

Niall scrunches up his nose, because he was there, and Liam’s account isn’t entirely untrue.

“He’s not lying. Liam, I mean. Harry was suddenly gay over night, everyone briefly flipped their shit and Harry was all anyone was talking about, Liam’s then girlfriend suddenly got interested, Harry is suddenly dating her, Harry is suddenly denying being gay… them’s the headlines.”

Louis nods a couple of times, looking defeated.

“I just… I must be fucking stupid, but I never doubted- I mean, I thought maybe there must have been some kind of argument over a girl between Harry and Liam, but I can’t believe that Harry would pretend to be gay just to…”

Louis trails off, and Niall decides that maybe Liam’s explanation hasn’t been entirely accurate.

“Well, I’m not saying that Liam has lied, because he hasn’t, but this was… well, it was really personal to him. Obviously there was the whole Sarah thing, and Liam’s not very good at having his limelight stolen, but, you know. He was also…”

Niall gestures at Louis hoping to clarify, but Louis just looks confused.

“Well. Liam was pretty sure that you were gay, at this point, and were kind of struggling with it. And so when Harry was so casual about coming out, it wound him up. And  _ then _ , when Sarah and Harry started being Hollywood’s weirdest and  _ briefest  _ couple, Harry suddenly wasn’t gay anymore, and would deny it and tell people to not talk about it. And it was  _ that _ , I think, that really made Liam lose it.”

Louis just stares for a moment, and Niall adds further clarification.

“There was, you know, bitching. A lot. I, ummm, was not completely innocent of it, you should know, Harry’s behaviour didn’t sit right with me either. And then, well, we were young. Everyone else got involved. The track team leaps to Harry’s defense, football team to Liam’s. There were lots of words and bad feeling - we had to have loads of meetings in the coach’s office before a kind of truce was called. It had stopped being about Harry and Liam, by the end. It was just all out war. Full scale hostilities.”

Louis rubs at his chin, looking away from Niall, towards the door.

“But why wouldn’t Harry tell me all this?”

Niall tilts his head to one side, because he knows that Liam is going to be pissed at him, he just knows. But one of the things about being friends is being able to have a difference of opinion and state it; otherwise one person is a leader and the other person is a follower.

“So, Liam thinks that Harry has just been doing this with you to break your heart, and therefore get back at him. He’s got a pretty…  _ personal _ take on the whole thing. Obviously. I’m slightly more detached.”

Louis glances at him, curiosity obvious.

“So what do you think?”

Niall shrugs.

“I think that it was probably a really tricky patch of time for Harry, socially. Him and Sarah broke it off after a couple of weeks, but he was public enemy number one, for the rest of his freshman year, until summer break hit and everyone cooled off. If I had to guess, he probably just didn’t want to have that conversation, and bring it all back up. It would have been easier to keep it a secret from you, for as long as possible.”

Louis frowns at him, and then inspects the remains of his coffee, with sudden intensity.

“I don’t like it when people lie.”

Niall frowns, because having the moral high ground is all very well, but there are times when giving up just a fraction of it is probably for the best.

“But was Harry lying? Or was he just not telling you  _ everything _ ?”

Louis looks blankly at him, for a moment, and then shrugs.

“He should have told me.”

Niall pulls a face, because it is a bit late for what  _ should  _ have happened.

“And so he didn’t. If you gave him a time machine right now, I’d bet a significant amount of money that he’d go back a couple of weeks. To a point in time when only  _ one  _ of the Tomlinson brothers doubted his sexuality, rather than both.”

Louis' face falls at that, and Niall is pretty proud of himself, because he thinks that he might have just found the actual point, rather than circling around it for hours, like he usually does.

“Oh… oh. Yeah. Um. I never thought of it like that.”

“Yeah? Well, Harry probably has.”

Louis stands up abruptly.

“I think… I should maybe go and… I think I’m right in the middle of being the world’s biggest idiot.”

Niall shrugs happily, because he always enjoys helping people on a journey of self discovery.

“Yeah…probably. Off you go then.”

…

He walks to Harry’s street. It takes an hour, but Louis appreciates the time to think.

Because the more that he turns it over in his mind, the more Niall’s explanation of Harry’s behavior becomes the only obvious answer. And Liam’s explanation feels too personal, too themed with hurt pride.

He doesn’t think that Liam has lied.

But Louis does decide that he doesn’t want to believe Liam anymore.

He likes Harry too much. He needs to at least say sorry. For his brother’s behavior when he threw Harry out of their house, if not anything else.

On the way over, Louis manages to solidify the conundrum into a series of simple steps.

First, apologize to Harry for being a moron. (Louis isn’t entirely sure how to go about doing that if Harry isn’t going to speak to him, but at least if he thinks of it in a straight-forward manner then it might actually become straight-forward.)

Second,  _ if _ step one is successful, to try and find a way to continue seeing Harry, with no secrets, and also without Liam’s head exploding.

Third, (and this feels like adding  _ climb Everest on one leg _ to the To Do list) find a way for Harry and Liam to tolerate each other.

It’s funny how, the nerves aren’t really there, until he rounds the corner onto Harry’s street, and then he feels like he has been punched in the stomach.

Louis looks blankly up and down, but this time at least, he can see Harry’s car on a driveway, so identifying the house isn’t tricky.

Just everything else.

…

Harry is going for a run.

He thinks better when he runs.

He also, sometimes, manages to not think at all when he runs, and it is that result that he is aiming for, as he tugs on her sneakers. He ties his hair up in a hasty little bun, yells out a farewell to his mom, and then doesn’t slam the door because he is done with slamming doors. It isn’t the doors that he is angry with.

It is Friday night, and Harry can’t help but feel like the pressure on his chest has been eased somehow. He isn’t supposed to be in school tomorrow. Harry gets a couple of days to rediscover his equilibrium, and prepare himself for whatever shit Liam will throw at him.

(Metaphorically speaking.)

(He  _ hopes _ .)

Harry will probably try and see Cara too, who was good at giving him a sense of perspective last time, and is able to say soothing things like  _ no-one is looking at you _ , and  _ it doesn’t matter what they think _ .

He will survive. He’s done it before. A quiet weekend, and then whatever comes on Monday.

Harry’s plans for a quiet, drama free weekend go out of the window entirely when he realizes that Louis is standing at the end of his path, clearly caught in a moment of indecision about what to do next. Harry freezes, staring dumbly at him, brain refusing to process, having not considered this eventuality.

After a second, Louis raises a hand in mute greeting, and that kick starts Harry again. He takes a couple of strides forward, neatly side stepping around Louis.

“I’m going for a run.”

“Yeah, um, I was actually hoping that we could talk…”

Harry looks cooly at him for a moment, and then shrugs.

“I need to go for a run.”

“But…I think we need to talk.”

Harry knows that he is being childish when he answers, but something about Louis continuing to decide when they talk is grating with him.

“So, see if you can keep up.”

“Harry-”

Whatever Louis' answer is, probably about being reasonable and facing up to problems, is lost, because Harry is jogging away, trying to restrain himself from sprinting too soon in case he hurts himself.

…

It’s only a few blocks of pounding wearily after Harry, but Louis is significantly underprepared for physical exercise, and old converse high tops are not the best running footwear. So when Harry comes to a halt at a quiet corner, and stands with his hands on his hips, looking anywhere other than Louis, it is a challenge to not be sucking in air too obviously, as he walks up to him, wincing on sore feet.

Harry doesn’t sound out of breath at all, but there is a different sort of tension in his voice.

“Louis, you can’t keep up with me.”

Louis shrugs, feeling stubborn.

“I can try.”

“I can run faster than you.”

“But you can’t stop me.”

Harry takes a couple of helpless, aimless steps, and then pushes a hand over his face in frustration.

“You weren’t there when I needed you.”

Louis nods, admitting fault.

“I’m here now. And I’m not going until you at least let me apologize.”

Harry just looks at him for a moment, and then his eyes fill with tears, which he brushes away angrily.

“For which bit of the last few days do you plan on apologizing for?”

Louis stretches out his hands, lacking the words, because for all the rights and wrongs of who said what, Harry had been hurting, and Louis should have tried harder.

“All of it.”

Something inside Harry seems to break with that, and he steps away from Louis, sitting on a low wall and resting his head in his hands. After a couple of moments, his shoulders shake, and Louis knows he is crying.

He approaches cautiously, and puts a hand on his shoulder, which Harry shrugs off abruptly.

So Louis just sits there, next to Harry, until he isn’t crying so hard.

The street is a quiet one, but Louis counts ten cars pass before she tries to touch Harry again, this time resting a hand at the small of her back.

Harry leans into him, and places his head on Louis' shoulder.

They stay like that in silence, with Louis rubbing small circles into Harry’s back to try and communicate that he is there, and that he isn’t going anywhere.

 

 


	21. Chapter Twenty One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello! This is an AU fanfiction - nothing is real. .
> 
> As ever, thank you for reading, kudos-ing, bookmarking, leaving comments, etc - all appreciated.
> 
> …

He kind of wishes that being with Louis didn’t feel this good.

That way he could just tell Liam to go fuck himself, and try and move on.

Unfortunately, being with Louis really does feel good. Harry feels protected, and cared for, and as though everything will soon be okay. And that’s just from having Louis’ hand resting on the small of his back.

Harry wonders if he is being weak. If he shouldn’t be so desperate to find a way to forgive Louis.

But then he remembers that weak people would look for an easy way out of the situation. And trying to find a way to make things work with Louis sure as hell doesn’t feel like the easy route. Hell no.

He clears his throat, after what feels like an eternity of not speaking.

“I’m still mad, for the record.”

Louis nods solemnly a couple of times, removing his hand from Harry and sighing.

“Me too. I think I could have handled all this better.”

Harry scuffs at the sidewalk underneath his sneakers, flipping a stone away without much enthusiasm. Louis is way too good at being apologetic, and way too willing to take responsibility for things which aren’t  _ all  _ his fault.

“Well. I figure I could have probably handled certain elements of this better too.”

Louis grunts, and then rubs at his forehead.

“Liam did… yeah, Liam had a lot to tell me, all at once. Having some inclining of what was coming might have helped me not react like an idiot.”

Harry tilts his head back and looks at the sky, where the clouds are tinted pink from the sunset.

“You weren’t that much of an idiot. You just didn’t… I was waiting for you to call. And when you didn’t I got mad. And then just panicked about it being all over school again.”

“No- we didn’t, neither of us have said anythin-”

“I know, Cara’s told me.”

They settle into an uncertain silence again, and Harry can tell that Louis is trying to figure out what to say next. He decides to stop making Louis do all the work.

“Come on.  You are probably due the truth, as well as whatever Liam has told you.”

Louis sighs, and stand up, dusting himself down.

“Liam thinks he is telling the truth too, I’m sure of that much.”

Harry concentrates of the exact phrasing of Louis’ statement, because he isn’t saying that Liam is telling the truth, not really. He reaches for Louis’ hand, tugging slightly.

“Well. You can hear my truth.”

Louis looks at their hands, and then squeezes once, stepping into Harry’s space.

“Just don’t expect me to run again, please.”

Harry smiles, despite himself.

…

His mom is at home, and gives them a curious look from down the corridor, when Harry shows Louis in and then kicks off his shoes.

“Mom, this is Louis. He said he’d help me study.”

His mom does this exaggerated shrug, in her best attempt to imply that she has completely bought the obvious lie, but thankfully manages to not ask any questions, just waving them upstairs.

“Okay - let me know if you need anything.”

Harry nods, before pointing Louis up the stairs, before Louis can get busy with introducing himself, because he feels pretty confident that Louis will happily chat to his mom all night.

(Harry has a sudden insight to the fact that Louis and his mom are going to get on great. It is both alarming and depressingly pleasing, all at once.)

“Up… my room is just on the left.”

Louis follows instructions, and then comes to a halt in the centre of Harry’s room, looking as though events have gotten away from him slightly.

“You, um. I like your room. And… your mom is really tall.”

Harry snorts at him, and then gestures at himself, looking down at Louis.

“And this is surprising how?”

Louis grins, shrugging with one shoulder.

“I”d forgotten that you were tall.”

Casting a hasty glance around his room, just in case anything obviously embarrassing is on show, Harry moves to sit on his bed, and then immediately wishes he hadn’t, because he doesn’t know what to do next.

“It hasn’t been that long since you’ve seen me.”

Louis shifts slightly on his feet, and looks at Harry, in a way that has Harry pre-emptively bracing against too much honesty.

“I missed you hard though. It felt like longer.”

Closing his eyes, Harry tries very hard to remember that he is still a bit upset with Louis.

“Just… give me the brief highlights of what Liam told you, please.”

Louis tucks his hands into his pockets, before saying “that you were a girlfriend stealing pretend gay with a revenge complex.”

Something about Louis’ steady intonation makes him laugh, despite himself, but it peeters out quickly, into a weary sigh.

“Okay, well, let’s do a bit of deconstructing of that. You should sit down. This will take a while.”

…

It takes Harry about an hour, of careful re-explaining, and Louis concentrates really hard on not asking questions or trying to speed Harry along, because even though the majority of it Louis already knows, the truth sounds different coming out of Harry’s mouth. Because it is broadly the same truth, but…

And something about the way Harry is saying gives Louis the impression that it is really important for him to say  _ all  _ of this, himself.

By the time Harry lapses into silence again, he is lying fully on his back, staring up at the ceiling, as though looking at Louis is too difficult.

After a moment, Louis takes a risk, and leans back into the bedding too, turning on his side and watching Harry’s face. It reminds him of their first date. Harry’s eyes flicker towards his, and then he goes back to staring at the ceiling, faintest ghost of a smile playing at his lips.

Louis wonders if he is thinking about their first date too.

“Do you mind if I ask a few questions?”

Harry shrugs.

“Why did you come out to the track team, if you weren’t ready to be out?”

Biting his lip in an unhappy gesture, Harry glances at him.

“I was… I don’t know. I was younger than everyone else, they all had their friends. Cara wasn’t there. I felt really alone, I guess. Liam was right about me being really boring. No-one was paying any attention to me. And, so, I guess I thought… well, I have  _ this  _ interesting thing about me. But I only told a couple of the girls, and even then it was a kind of…  _ I think I might be _ … But I guess I hadn’t anticipated how secrets work, or don’t work, in teams like that. They told  _ everyone _ . Like, I hadn’t even figured it out for myself really, and then everyone was asking me about it. I guess I tried to just bravado my way through it.”

“Liam thinks you made it up for attention.”

Harry scrunches up his nose, and then huffs out a sigh.

“Yeah I know. And, I mean, I guess I was stupid enough to be looking for attention. But I didn’t make it up.”

Louis nods, because he thinks that maybe he understands.

“I was, sort of going through the same sort of struggle. Um. But a lot less publicly. I think Li probably did a bit of comparing and contrasting in his head. Maybe that’s why he took it so personally.”

Harry mumbles lowly “Well, how was I supposed to know that?” Louis shrugs, because there wasn’t any way for Harry to know that, but he thinks that it goes someway to explaining how personally Liam took everything.

“And then… so Sarah, uh-”

“She told me that her and Liam weren’t a thing. And then so, I don’t know, she was the really cool senior, and I wasn’t  _ not  _ interested, and also I was kind of really not okay with suddenly everyone thinking of me as  _ that gay guy _ , so I guess. Yeah. It was a mistake, and fucking creepy, on reflection. But she definitely told me she was single.”

Louis sighs, and rolls onto  _ his _ back, because he has a feeling that Harry isn’t going to like what he says next.

“For the record, I think that if it was just about you dating Sarah, Liam would be well over it. It’s just that… he thinks that you pretended to be gay, just to get Sarah interested in the, and I’m paraphrasing here,  _ boring nobody freshman _ , and then suddenly went back to being straight.”

Harry is silent for a moment, and then speaks in a really smooth, tightly controlled voice that sounds well practiced and painful.

“Yeah, I know all that. I had that yelled at me across the training pitch a couple of times. And all the snide remarks in the corridors. As much as I dislike your brother, I can’t deny that he’s got some pretty powerful leadership skills. Those football dicks were  _ all over  _ me.”

Louis says nothing, because even though he can’t imagine Liam deliberately starting a hate campaign, he can imagine Liam knowing one was happening and not stopping it.

A thought strikes him.

“I think he feels embarrassed about how he dealt with it now - he really didn’t want to tell me what had gone on. I couldn’t figure out why he’d hide details.”

Harry rubs his hand over his face, and then just leaves it there, as if trying to block out memories.

“Well, of course he wouldn’t tell his gay brother about the whirlwind of drama he created out of one boy struggling with his sexuality. I mean, I’ve heard of people being bullied for saying they’re gay, but it was like Liam was bullying me for saying I was  _ straight _ , or something. I had Sarah on one hand trying to talk to me about having threesomes with other guys, and your brother marching up and down telling everyone that I was completely straight and a fucking liar. People who I had never spoken to were coming up to me, trying to ask me for the ‘real truth’. I hated it. It was hell. I only coped because we just had two more weeks of school left before the summer break. I broke up with Sarah. I tried to pretend nothing had happened.”

Louis absorbs all of this without saying anything, and then reaches over, lifting Harry’s hand away from his face.

“Hey. I’m sorry I didn’t just tell Liam it was all bullshit from the start. Because sexuality is difficult and honesty is difficult and even though maybe telling people on the track team wasn’t the  _ smartest _ idea if you still wanted it to be a secret, you didn’t deserve to have it analysed in such a thorough manner by the whole school-”

Louis is cut off because Harry reaches over him, and pulls Louis down towards him, kissing him hard. Louis makes an involuntary noise of surprise, and then kisses back, trying to say with his lips what his words were failing to do earlier.

Harry’s fingers twist into the hair at the nape of his neck, and tug vaguely, as Louis kisses and kisses and wonders how he could have  _ ever  _ doubted whether Harry was into him, because noone could kiss like this and not mean it, surely,  _ surely _ .

It is when Louis realizes that Harry’s cheeks are wet with tears that he breaks the kiss, and leans away slightly, running gentle fingers over his cheekbones.

“Hey, don’t, it is okay…”

Harry takes a deep, gulping breath, and then shakes his head.

“I was so, so mad with myself when I started falling for you, because I knew that it meant at some point all this would have to happen again, and I just wanted to forget all about it, so I tried to keep it a secret, and I was lying to you through omission and then I was  _ going  _ to tell you but then Liam found us in the worst possible way, and it was just… it brought everything back, and…”

Harry trails off, and Louis shushes him, kissing at his cheeks and the corner of his mouth.

“It’s okay, it’ll be okay. Liam will talk shit but it’ll be okay because I know the real version now and I know the real you and he doesn’t so all I need to do is figure everything out and then…”

Harry kisses him again, pulling him down so that Louis is pretty much on top of him, and then wrapping his arms around his shoulders. When he speaks, it is just broken words mumbled into his lips.

“You know that Liam is really,  _ really  _ good at being mad at people, Louis? Like, you might not have ever experienced it, but…”

Louis shrugs, kissing back because he feels like they might have earned a little bit of blind optimism.

“I’ll handle it, I can handle it. He can’t make me think exactly what he thinks…”

Harry doesn’t answer, just kisses him some more, and Louis hopes it is because he believes him.

…

After a couple of hours of study, her son comes down, bleary eyed and hair oddly astray. Harry’s mom watches as her son fills up two tumblers of water, and then opens the fridge, peering at the contents.

“Um. Mom. Do you mind if Louis stays the night? We were going to watch a movie and stuff. Louis’ parents will be fine, he’ll just message them.”

Something about the way the request is delivered to the fridge rather than her makes Harry’s mom think that maybe more than a study session has been happening for the course of this evening, but what is youth for, other than to be young?

“That’s fine sweetie, as long as his parents know. Do you need me to get the airbed out of the cupboard or…?”

Harry turns around, frowning, and Harry’s mom can see the way that he looks tired, but happy, for the first time in a few days.

“Uhh, well, no, I mean it is a double bed and Cara just sleeps in there with me, normally, when she stays so-”

Harry’s mom waves a hand, formally cutting him off, because she trusts her son to not make mistakes. Or rather to make them, but recover and grow from them. Not that she thinks Louis will be a mistake. From the warm way that Harry has been talking about his new ‘friend’ Louis these past couple of months, she thinks that mistake might be far from the truth.

“No problem. I was going to order pizza, so you’ll have to tell me what Louis wants, okay?”

Harry nods, and then takes a few sudden steps across to the sink, hugging his mom tightly.

“Thanks mom.”

Harry’s mom pats him on the back a couple of times, and then kisses him once on the forehead.

“Go on up then, you are being a poor host.”

Harry steps away, rolling his eyes with a smirk, before picking up the full glasses. As Harry’s mom turns back to the sink, she can hear her son taking the stairs two at a time, and smiles to herself.

…


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello! This is an AU fanfiction - nothing is real. 
> 
> As ever, thank you for reading, kudos-ing, bookmarking, leaving comments, etc - all appreciated.
> 
> …

It takes a while for Louis to rise to consciousness.

It’s because he’s warm, and cosy, and feels indescribably content, somehow. The comforter is soft against his skin, and even though the smell isn’t familiar, it is nice, and reminds him of something familiar, and Louis turns in his sleep, happy.

This side is equally warm, and when his hand encounters another one, Louis lets his fingers wrap through long fingers.

There’s a mumble next to him, and it is  _ that _ which really drags him to awareness.

He opens his eyes, and there is Harry, blinking sleepily back at him. Harry’s eyes widen slightly in recognition after a moment, and then he rolls, pressing his face into his pillow.

“Mmpfft… don’t look at me. I’ll be all sleep faced and covered in drool.”

Louis snorts, and rolls onto his back, trying hard to not grin at the ceiling like an idiot. The move somehow reminds his nose that everything in here smells like Harry, and Louis can’t believe this is happening, that everything could be this easy.

Harry’s hand comes reaching across to find his again, and Louis lets Harry play with his fingers for the moment, before capturing his hand and squeezing, once.

“This is a good morning.”

Harry hums in agreement, before removing his hand to place it instead over Louis' eyes, to his surprise. Louis then feels soft lips kissing quickly at his cheek, and then Harry mumbles in his ear “It is a good morning, but I’m about to go to shower, and if you open your eyes before I’m ready to be looked at there will be trouble. And maybe a murder.”

Louis giggles, and then nods solemnly.

“Deal. Although I’m sure that morning you is just as cute as any other you; so I think it probably would matter if I snuck a quick look at you and maybe kissed you a little bit.”

“Oh god no- morning breath!”

Before Louis can ask which of them has morning breath (probably both he decides, so would it matter?) Harry kisses his cheek again, and then slides away from him.

“I’m serious - no looking!”

Louis shrugs, having a weird feeling in his stomach about how much of a boy Harry is and how much he likes it. He keeps his eyes closed while Harry shuffles about in the room momentarily, and then the door clicks closed, and he thinks it is probably safe to open his eyes.

He sits up in bed slightly, absentmindedly adjusting his t-shirt and running his hands through his hair, and then reaches for his phone.

A significant part of him expects a million messages from Liam, so Louis is surprised when there is nothing in his inbox.

Maybe Liam is cool with things now.

(Maybe hell has frozen over.)

Louis sinks back down again, to where the pillows and sheets smell like Harry.

It’ll be fine. Liam is his brother.

It’ll be fine.

…

Harry likes seeing Louis with wet hair, he decides. Louis just emerged from the shower in yesterday’s clothes, ruffling his hair sheepishly with a borrowed towel, and Harry kind of wants to pull it away from him, and kiss his mouth and push the drying locks out of his eyes, until his hair dries in crazy unconscious shapes.

Louis just smiles at him, after a moment, but something about the seriousness behind his eyes stops Harry from following through on his impulses, and instead he goes back to his timetable, checking what assignments have to be done this weekend and what can be ignored until another time. Louis comes over after a moment, and kisses him on the cheek, before draping his wet towel playfully over Harry’s head.

“Thanks for the towel, babe.”

“Hey! You… ugh. No…. ugh. I hate you.”

Louis laughs at him from his new position of straddling Harry’s lap, and pushes the towel back until Harry can blow his hair out of his face.

“No you don’t, you are just envious of my sneak attack skills.”

“Whatever” Harry mumbles, tilting his head up so that Louis gets the hint, and leans forward, kissing him slowly. Harry lets his lips part, and Louis alternates between top and bottom, kissing as though trying to memorize. After a second he leans back, blinking as if to remove a haze.

“Do you feel like you are dreaming? I feel like I’m dreaming.”

Harry snorts, and kisses him again, muttering against his lips ‘Okay, calm down Shakespeare’, which has Louis laughing into his mouth. Harry lets his hand slide up to Louis' sides, squeezing gently at the flesh there, and sliding round, and down.

Louis grunts slightly, when Harry squeezes again, and then just says “Harry Styles, that is not very Shakespearean of you, either.”

“What, people in Shakespeare times didn’t like butts?”

“I think you need to write me a sonnet before you get access to butts. I don’t know - I’ll ask Mr Lee.”

Harry laughs, because Louis probably would, and Louis kisses him a couple more times, before resting both elbows on Harry’s shoulders, and kissing him on the nose, once.

“So, I have a plan. Tell me if it is stupid.”

Harry shrugs, thinking to himself that Louis is too smart to be stupid. Louis clears his throat, looking cautious.

“If the problem is…that it’ll make everyone talk, in school, and some of the football team go back to being gossipy morons, then maybe we should just- you know, like make it really obvious. Just tell everyone. And that way everyone can have their moment, and they’ll probably ask you a fuckton of questions, but you can just say what the truth is. And everyone who is normal will be over it in about two days. And the football team will be over it in a week.”

“And Liam?”

Louis sighs, and idle fingers start playing with the hair at the nape of Harry’s neck.

“And Liam… is my problem. But I won’t let him be rude to you. I won’t. I’ll tell my parents. He can say what he wants to me, but he isn’t allowed to be mean. And he won’t, I still can’t believe that…”

Louis trails off unhappily, clearly upset at the idea that Liam could be that much of a bitch to people who don’t deserve it. Harry squeezes at his sides slightly, trying to distract.

“I think it is a good idea. It can’t be any worse than last time, and it’ll be easier if it is you and me. And besides, you seem like you are pretty good at sticking up for people, for such a tiny person…”

“Hey-”

“But, you are kinda forgetting something…”

Louis frowns, looking worried.

“What?”

“I think you actually need to ask me to go out with you, before we begin a gay parade across school.”

Louis' frown disappears, and he grins slightly, before sobering.

“Harry… will you be my boyfriend?”

Something tugs hard, in his chest, because the word boyfriend was not what Harry was expecting, and it sounds even better than he could have imagined, coming out of Louis' mouth.

“Yeah” he breathes, nodding several times, before kissing Louis hard. “Yes. Definitely.”

…

Louis kisses Harry several more times before he leaves; the last one in the front hall, after Harry scrupulously checks his entire house to make sure that everyone else is either out, or in the garden.

“Are you sure you don’t want a ride?”

Louis shakes his head, smiling.

“Nah - its a good day for walking; and the buses are regular, so I’ll jump on one if I get tired. Besides, I need time to figure out what I’m going to say to Liam. If he asks.”

_ If he asks.  _ Harry snorts at the statement, and Louis agrees, because yeah, he is definitely going to ask.

“What  _ are _ you going to say to him?”

Louis shrugs, because it feels pretty obvious.

“That I’m dating you, and that I believe what you told me. That bit is the easy bit. It’s what comes  _ after _ that I’m struggling with.”

Harry bites at the corner of his thumb absentmindedly, as he looks out of the window with a slight frown on his face, as if he can actually provide an answer for Louis' conundrum. Louis smiles at the sight, and presses a kiss to his cheek, falling a little more at the way that Harry tries to envision a solution to something pretty unanswerable.

“Not your problem Harry. But we’re okay for Monday - tell everyone as soon as possible?”

Harry shrugs, and then grins at Louis.

“You should get your friends on it; Zayn and Eleanor and Nick could probably tell everyone in the space of half an hour.”

Louis laughs, and then says “They could have it trending on Twitter if we asked for it.”

Harry smiles quietly at him, and then presses a final kiss to his mouth.

“Go. Call me, okay? When whatever has been said has been said.”

Louis squeezes at Harry’s hand, and then opens the door.

“It can’t change my mind about you, okay?”

Harry nods.

“Okay.”

…

It’s a long walk, and Louis is still lugging all his school books from yesterday (yesterday? Really?) but he still appreciates the time, because he’s anticipating a fight with Liam, and the very notion makes him sick to his stomach.

Because Louis is good at compromise, and negotiation, and keeping his head, and generally doing everything other than escalating an argument. Whereas Liam… well, his anger doesn’t last long, but his grudges do. Louis remembers very clearly the three months of last year in which Liam had refused to speak to their dad, for reasons long forgotten and not worth the tension.

Louis can only imagine what Liam is going to say when he finds out that Louis has decided that he trusts Harry  _ despite _ what Liam swears to be true.

But he checks his phone again, just before he arrives home, and there are still no messages from Liam.

Maybe Liam’s just decided to let Louis make his own mistakes.

Louis reviews his entire life thus far, in a split second, on his doorstep. And decides that this seems unlikely.

…

Liam had spent the majority of last night seething. Which is an emotion which he realizes that he had never felt before, because never before had he actually felt like his head was on fucking  _ fire _ .

Cause it hadn’t taken much detective work, to figure out where Louis had stayed last night. Not after he’d messaged Niall, who had confirmed that all he had done was to help Louis see that there were maybe two sides to this story. Not after his mom had announced that Louis was staying with a ‘friend’. It’s hardly a leap of unparalleled analytic deduction.

In the morning, when Liam has calmed down a bit, or rather run out of energy to maintain such a high level of anger, he tries to rationalize what he is angry about.

First of all, Louis doesn’t trust him. And after a lot of self reflection, Liam realizes that if Louis is going to accept Harry’s versions of events, then Harry is probably weaving the tale to make Liam sound like some kind of uber-bitch psychopath, even though his responses at the time were  _ completely justified _ .

Liam hasn’t got a lot of space in his personality to be angry at Louis for not trusting him, and so instead defaults to his far more comfortable position of being impossibly angry at Harry for  _ making _ Louis not trust him.

Secondly, Liam just  _ knows  _ that somehow, all Harry is doing is messing with Louis' head to break his heart in some way. As a final  _ fuck you _ to Liam. And Liam will not tolerate Harry using Louis as a playing piece in this damn stupid game that Liam had thought was  _ over _ , and forgotten, a long time ago.

Why else would Harry have told Louis to keep it secret? If he really is the homo he says he is, why not announce it as soon as possible, and laugh at how fucking stupid Liam was, with all his false accusations? Nope, this has been kept a secret because Harry must have known that Liam would blow all his fuses the  _ second _ he found out, and shut the whole thing down before Louis could get too attached.

It is the only explanation. It must be.

So when Liam sits on Louis' bed, with the aim of talking to him the second that he returns home, he does so with the very clear intent of not yelling at Louis. It’s not him that he is angry with - not really.

All of his good intentions become derailed very early on, when Louis walks stoically into his room, looks at him steadily, and then says ‘Me and Harry are dating now, and if you do anything to try and stop it then you aren’t the brother I thought you were.’

Because wow.  _ Wow _ . One night with Harry and Louis' mind is completely poisoned against him.

“Oh for fuckssake… are you kidding me? Emotional blackmail, this early in the morning? I’m trying to protect you, if you’d take your head out of your ass for one second and think straight.”

He doesn’t mean to say the word straight, but it clearly sets of some kind of reaction in Louis' head, because he frowns hard, and then points out of his room.

“Just get out of here Liam, I don’t want to talk to you about it, because you are never going to get it.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah - you are never going to understand what Harry went through because you are  _ straight _ , and so can’t you think anything other than straight, and you’ve created this weird twisted world of paranoia, instead of just seeing that all the drama was just a consequence of Harry struggling with his sexuality.”

Liam throws his hands up in the air, at a loss, and says the first thing that comes into his head.

“Did he sleep with you? Is that it? Because I swear to god…”

Liam doesn’t even know what the end to that sentence is, and never gets there anyway, because Louis inhales an entire lungful of outrage, and then explodes.

“What the  _ fuck  _ Liam? Why would I ever tell you that? Because if I say yes, then you’ll just use it as further proof of Harry’s supposed psychopathic tendencies, and if I say no then you’ll just use it as evidence that he isn’t gay, and why can’t you see how  _ stupid _ you are being about this?”

Liam doesn’t know what to say, but every instinct is screaming at him to start yelling, because that is not why he was asking, but he just needed to know how deep Louis is into this mess. But if Louis really thinks that Liam has got that much ability to be a complete  _ dick _ then sure, maybe he should take this up a notch or two, because all Liam wants is for his past mistakes to not impact on Louis. And now he doesn’t know how to do that anymore.

“Louis, I’m trying to protect you from your own stupidity, but god knows you are making it  _ fucking _ hard for me-”

“Just get out of my room Liam. I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Yeah, of course you don’t, because you are so desperate to believe sweet little innocent Harry with his cute little smile and his ‘who, me?’ attitude-”

At this point their mom appears at the door, looking concerned, and Liam sure as hell is not going to be ordered to leave. He tries though, standing up and looking imploringly at Louis.

“Look, can we just… can you just talk to me, properly. When we’ve both calmed down?”

Louis frowns at him, and then rubs a hand over his face, looking weary.

“So that you can try and convince me that you were right, all over again? Cause that’s what I think you are afraid of - everyone in school realizing that you were wrong.”

Liam riles, and then sets his jaw, rather than bursting into tears, because he sees how it is going to be, now.

“Don’t come crying to me when it all turns out to be lie. Because he won’t care.”

“Boys, I don’t know what is going on, or why, but-”

Liam ignores his mom, and just absorbs the glare that Louis gives him.

“I’m not going to cry over this Liam. I think enough crying has been done over this.”

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Suprise! Two Chapters in one day. Also hello lovely people in the comment section, you are great.


	23. Chapter Twenty Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello I am back!! I've been teaching in Thailand with NO INTERNET for a whole six weeks.   
> I'll be back to my regularly scheduled mumblings soon :-)   
> For now enjoy this chapter.   
> (Also thank you if you're still here and you've stuck around this long)

The silence continues throughout the whole of Sunday, and Liam doesn’t offer him a ride to school the next morning.

He slams the door on the way out, too, after a morning of cereal and ice cold silences. Their mom breathes out a sigh, as the china in the cupboards reverberates slightly with the aftershocks, and then looks at Louis.

“At what point do your father and I get involved in this? Because you two  _ never _ argue, this is completely unlike you both…”

Louis shrugs, staring into his finished cereal bowl, and then standing to put it in the sink.

“I don’t want to talk about it. Give us a couple of days, we’ll figure something out.”

His mom makes a noise which sounds a lot like  _ I’ll believe that when I see it _ , but Louis doesn’t have the mental energy for a conversation right now, not when he thinks about the day ahead. So instead he presses a single kiss to his mom’s cheek by way of goodbye, and walks to the bus stop.

His headphones do a good job of insulating him from the outside world, and Louis can almost ignore the rest of the bus. He can’t shake the feeling that Perrie’s eyes are burning into the back of his head, but Louis can’t begin to process that either, this supposed crush that he thinks that Nick might have entirely pulled from his ass. From Perrie’s past behavior it is a bully crush at best, which is something that Louis isn’t interested in in the slightest.

It is only when the bus pulls up at school, and Louis spies Harry waiting for him, that the pressure in his chest starts to lift.

Harry smiles quietly as he approaches, and then pushes himself up off the wall he was sitting on, reaching out towards Louis to adjust the collar on his shirt.

“Hey… how is Liam?”

Louis shrugs, and looks past him to where he can see Zayn, Eleanor, and Nick, trying to look inconspicuous while hanging pointlessly around, twenty metres away.

“Pissed. Like, he’s gone into silent rage mode, which is a setting I don’t think I’ve ever seen on him before.”

Harry nods a few times, and then nudges his hand towards Louis' fingers, where Louis takes the hint, and squeezes once before letting go.

“But… you still believe me, right?”

Louis sighs, and bites at his lip, momentarily.

“I believe  _ both _ of you, if that makes sense. Like, I fully believe that you weren’t playing any games, during that weird summer, but were just having a bit of an ‘argh’ moment about your sexuality. But I also fully believe that Liam thought that you were lying, and now thinks he is doing this to try and protect me. Both of you have just cause to be pissed at the other, I think.”

Harry absorbs all this in silence, and then nods once, accepting Louis' position.

“Okay…Liam is pretty ferocious when it comes to protecting his own, I guess.”

It isn’t quite a compliment, but it is the first thing Harry has said that sounds close, after this whole mess started, and Louis decides to mark it down as a forward step.

“So, are you still okay with the plan? The whole  _ out and proud  _ thing? Make sure the gossip has run around school at least twice before the day is over?”

Harry smiles, and wrinkles up his nose, looking at Louis' mouth with considering eyes.

“Yeah- although this is probably the one area in which Liam is on our side; he will have told the entire cheer team by now, just to get a head start on the poison.”

Louis shakes his head, certain. There’s a lot Harry will come to understand about his brother, and this might be the first one.

“No, he won’t have. Liam never goes on the offensive; when he reacts, it is always out of defense. He retaliates, hard, but he never starts something.”

Harry pauses, biting the inside of his mouth, and then nods. The school bell goes off somewhere behind them, marking them as officially late.

“Okay- then it is down to us.”

Louis smiles slightly, and looks very seriously at Harry.

“Are you scared?”

Harry shrugs, and then nods in an exaggerated way.

“Oh  _ yeah _ … but it’ll be okay, won’t it? It won’t be like last time - I want to tell people. And we are doing it together.”

Louis feels his heart squeeze extra hard in his chest at Harry’s words, and he’s got a stupid grin on his face, he just  _ knows _ .

“You want to tell people? That you’re going out with me?”

Harry snorts at him, and then leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to Louis' mouth.

“Yeah, but if you turn up tomorrow wearing a t-shirt that says ‘Harry Styles’ boyfriend’ I will be seriously reconsidering my position.”

Louis laughs in delight, and then reaches for Harry’s hand, tugging him towards his friends, and their school.

“Come on then.”

Zayn and Eleanor have expressions of barely contained delight on their faces, when Harry greets them, while Nick looks like he is on the verge of passing out. Louis smiles apologetically at him, and says “Sorry about all the drama of last week Nick. But we aren’t keeping it a secret anymore. Say sorry to Perrie for me.”

Nick widens his eyes, and then waves a hand in the air.

“Oh lord, I wasn’t actually suggesting that you should consider dating Perrie, I just wanted to gossip with you.”

“Wait, who is Perrie and why would you consider dating  _ her? _ ”

Louis laughs at Harry’s playful outrage, and then gestures at Nick.

“Nick, this is Harry. My boyfriend.”

Harry squeezes Louis' hand at the word, as Nick flaps and giggles and gasps out his congratulations. Louis smiles, and points a finger at Nick, suddenly very serious.

“Oh, and Nick; tell  _ everyone _ .”

Nick looks like he nearly falls to the ground, at the permission, and then pulls himself together, in something approaching a salute, and yeah, Louis thinks that the stupid grin on his face might be there to stay.

…

Nick does as instructed, because it is so  _ rare _ for him to be able to use his special gossiping powers for good.

By the time lesson one has finished, he’s pretty confident that all the girls in their history class know, and have processed, the fact that Louis is dating the pretty, quiet, boy on the track team in the year above. He gives them his blessing to spread the news onwards, and if he has judged their character accurately  _ at all _ , by lunch time it should be permeating even the groups of people who don’t pay any attention to gossip.

In English, Louis gets an initial wave of interest which he fields like a pro, and does a fair share of nodding, and smiling, as Eleanor and Zayn flank him like bouncers and dismiss people when they think that enough questions have been asked, but Louis doesn’t really get that much attention. Everyone already knows that he is gay. He gets a few girls giving him highfives, which he meets with reluctance, but that is the extent of the drama.

Nick decides that maybe Louis doesn’t need him as a constant, hovering, gay guardian angel, because he’s pretty much got that covered. He is his own gay guardian angel.

With this in mind, Nick decides to go track down Harry, during break time.

He finds him in the corner of the canteen, talking to Cara in low voices that are entirely unconducive to eavesdropping, so Nick bypasses the entire problem by just going to sit with them.

“Hi! Hi - I’m Nick.”

Cara smirks, and waves at him.

“Yes, I know. And you already know Harry, I believe.”

Nick grins, nodding enthusiastically, and shuffling up closer to Harry, who leans away slightly, looking panicked.

“Oh yes, I know him as either the delightful angel that Louis is seeing, or crazy straight pretend gay track team lunatic, depending on who I get my sources from. Which identity are you self defining as?”

Harry pulls a face, and then laughs, because it is all so  _ stupid _ , and Nick is glad that Harry can see that.

“Um, well neither of those sound exactly like me, but I guess the first option is closer to the truth. Where’s Louis?”

“Staying behind chatting to the teacher about something impossibly boring and geeky, I have no doubt. Have you seen Liam?”

Harry frowns, and then shrugs, casting a quick glance behind him, and if Liam might appear behind him suddenly.

“Um, no, I haven’t, although training is tonight and so I guess it is likely that I’ll see him then… also, why are you talking to me? Aren’t you one of Liam’s disciples?”

Nick nods, firmly agreeing.

“Oh yes - I mean, he terrifies and arouses me in equal measure.”

Cara chokes on her drink at that point, as Harry bites down on a laugh.

“Okay… so why are you talking to me? The rest of the football team aren’t, although they never really do. But I think they must know, because they keep looking at me.”

Nick nods again, certain.

“Oh, they definitely do, I told most of them. I mean, the ones in the younger years didn’t really care, didn’t really know who you were it seemed, but the seniors seemed pretty interested. There were a few raised eyebrows.”

Harry blinks at him, and then looks down at the table.

“Right. Okay. Well I guess… um, why are you talking to me?”

Nick adjusts his position in his chair, and looks around the canteen, trying to assess whether people are looking in their direction, and yes, there certainly seems to be a higher proportion of stares than you’d expect. Harry follows his gaze, and then seems to wilt slightly under the attention. Nick clears his throat, bringing the conversation back.

“Well, because I really like Louis, and you seem frankly adorable, and I’m here to fulfill the ‘helpful boy-loving friend’ role, because you seem to be lacking… no offense Cara, but you don’t seem like you’re into boys .”

Cara takes the comment on the chin, and nods, once.

“Tragically, no, no I am not. However, I would contest that I’m not sure what you can do that I can’t?”

Nick folds his arms, feeling pleased with himself.

“Oh, but you see, I’m allowed to gush over boys and get away with it… Harry, you and Louis did want as many people to know as possible, as quickly as possible?”

“Yes, but-”

Nick takes that as his cue, picking up a tumbler and rapping his pen sharply against it, multiple times, as he stands up in his chair. A number of people look over towards him.

“Hello, yes, if I could just have your attention please… I’d just like to confirm, that yes, the rumors are true, and that Louis Tomlinson is dating the beautiful Harry here, Harry give everyone a wave- oh no, okay, well anyway, I’m sure you are all very pleased about this, and I’d like to take this opportunity to let you know that any messages of congratulations can be passed on to Harry or his associate Cara, whereas any questions or queries should be posed to myself as their official press officer…” Nick flicks his hair out of his eyes at this point, and earns himself a laugh, and by now three quarters of the canteen is looking in their direction. Nick glances down at Harry, who is looking up at him with wide eyes and possibly murder in his heart, but at least this is getting things over and done with  _ quickly _ . Ripping off the bandaid, as he likes to think.

“Anyway, all further inquiries should probably be submitted in writing, because lord knows we are all busy people, and so… Oh, hi Louis!”

The entire canteen turns as one to look at Louis, who is weaving his way over to them, between the tables. There’s a few wolf whistles, and the odd cheer, and a brief smattering of applause, from scattered sections. Louis waves once in recognition, and then calls over to Nick, who realizes that he is still standing on a chair.

“Nick, as much as we appreciate your efforts to spread the word, try to remember that this isn’t Glee- please don’t start singing.”

That gets another laugh, and Nick is  _ enjoying  _ himself.

“How dare you- musical numbers are not my thing. Dance routines, however…”

Louis flips him off with both hands, and arrives at their table, running a hand over Harry’s shoulders, soothingly.

“You okay?”

“Yeah… just trying to figure out if people melt, or dissolve, from embarrassment.”

Louis laughs, and leans down, as Harry reaches up, so their kiss meets in the middle. There’s a few awws, and a couple of whoops, but Nick flaps his hands, and everyone goes back to their own business, with the volume of noise only slightly higher than it had been a couple of moments before. Nick jumps back down into his seat, and claps his hands together approvingly.

“See? Word is successfully spread. Harry, you can thank me later.”

Harry looks at him as if the planned murder is going to happen now, and then just relaxes, still blushing every shade of red, but laughing at least.

“Jeez Nick, just hire a brass band, next time.”

“Oh, but that is a  _ brilliant  _ idea.”

…

It’s a pretty weird day, all told.

Harry comes to the conclusion, by the time that the final bell of the day goes, that there are a number of advantages in his corner.

Firstly, the end of Harry’s freshman year is now a long time ago. A few people in his year ask him whether all that drama between him and Liam is now completely over, and Harry lies, and says it is, because he hasn’t seen Liam all day, and it certainly wasn’t the response that he was expecting from Louis' brother.

And when he’s getting changed for training, a couple of the girls in the year above congratulate him for figuring everything out, with the odd smirk and roll of the eyes, but Harry can cope with that. He just takes everything at face value, and nods and shrugs and generally tries to give off the vibe that there is nothing really to talk about. Cara cooly changes topic, whenever as question looks like it might turn into an interrogation, and Harry feels so much  _ older _ somehow, than he did last time. He can hack this now.

The other big advantage, and one that he hadn’t fully anticipated, is that Louis seems to be pretty well universally liked. Where Harry still finds wider social interaction difficult, Louis seems to have none of those problems. Same with Nick, who is rapidly becoming all the girls favorite bundle of fun, and so to have his,  _ very public _ blessing, means that Harry receives almost no negativity whatsoever.

And sure, he hasn’t really seen the football team yet, and he doesn’t fully share Louis confidence that Liam isn’t going to pick a public fight, but the entire day has gone far more smoothly than Harry thought it would, and he feels light, and free, for the first time in months.

Louis is waiting by the changing room doors, and Harry goes bouncing over towards him. He registers a second too late that Louis is having what looks like a serious conversation with Niall, Liam’s second in command, and falters slightly, but keeps walking, because Harry has told himself that he is done with backing down.

Louis smiles at him, and nods in greeting, but keeps talking to Niall.

“So he’s been like that all day?”

Niall nods, smiling cautiously at Harry.

“Yeah, just, really weird. Quiet. Pissed at me, obviously, because I told you to get your act together and go see this one here…”

Harry blushes, and frowns, when he realizes that Niall is referring to him. He wonders whether he should go, but Louis reaches out a hand to his, pulling Harry towards him.

“Thanks for that- Harry, this is Niall. I think you guys already know each other, though.”

Niall nods at him, and Harry doesn’t know what to do here, because Niall had had some pretty choice things to say about him, a couple of years ago.

“Hi- I’m sorry, by the way. I behaved like a child, and you didn’t deserve it. I understand now. And I’ll try and get Liam to understand, too.”

Harry nods in acknowledgement, and that seems to be that. Niall goes back to Louis.

“But yeah, he’s really upset Louis. He thinks that you don’t trust him anymore. And it is football practice tonight, and Liam has just left, hasn’t even given an excuse to Winters. And I’ll cover, of course, cause I have some making up to do to Li myself, but it’s not like him, Louis. He’s really upset.”

Louis' grip on Harry’s hand tightens, and he says steadily “Yeah, well, he upset me too.” But Harry can tell that he is troubled, and so he clears his throat.

“You should go see him, maybe?”

Louis shakes his head, twisting his mouth to one side.

“Nah, I think we’re both still a bit too angry at each other, for that. I’ll stay and watch practice, instead, if that’s cool with you?”

Harry shrugs, because he is hardly going to say no, is he? And Niall snorts, after a moment.

“And this time you don’t even have to pretend who you are watching, this time, mini-Tommo.”

“Shut up Ni- go do a touchdown or whatever you athletic people do.”

…


	24. Chapter Twenty Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi and thank you for sticking with me!!

When Louis gets home, Liam isn’t sitting on his bed. Which is a surprise, because he thought that maybe he might be. All ready to tell Louis that he was making a mistake, and Harry was just playing him, and that Harry should never be trusted, and on and on…

When Louis sits on his bed however, the bed is still warm, as if someone was just sitting there, and then had a change of heart, and hastily removed themselves, when they heard the door downstairs close. Liam’s bedroom is just across the landing from Louis', and Louis can see the closed door, no sign of any life behind it.

Louis decides that, when tensions have eased slightly, he’s going to sit down with Liam and try to, calmly and steadily, explain Harry’s side of the story. Because lord knows that Harry can’t get it out himself, Liam wouldn’t give him a moment to breathe without jumping to the wrong conclusion.

And maybe Liam will listen to him, because Louis is gay, and therefore understands what it is like to struggle, and find it difficult to come out, and be certain about it. Whereas he thinks that Liam has  _ never _ had the same experience. Louis can’t remember a time that Liam was uncertain about  _ anything _ .

All he needs to do is find the correct moment.

…

The problem is, that the correct moment never really comes.

Liam goes out a  _ lot _ , those next couple of weeks. With friends who Louis doesn’t really know, because they’re friends from his classes, rather than the football team. And he stays out late, later than Louis is allowed to, and all Louis can think is that Liam is trying to underline the age difference between him and Louis. As if he is saying  _ look, see, I’m older than you. I understand how the world works. Listen to my warnings about predatory straight boys with a revenge complex. _

Louis has long since stopped trying to understand the levels of hurt pride that were felt on both sides at the time, but he’s struggling to understand why Liam would still think that Harry was playing some elaborate game, after almost two weeks of being out together, and a solid couple of months of being together beforehand. Who is that dedicated to revenge? It makes Louis laugh, when he thinks about it.

It’s a painful, awkward laugh, which tugs at his chest as it leaves.

He airs this concern, to Cara, Friday lunchtime, when Harry is occupied with an extra training session, because spring is hitting, and the track season is going up a gear in intensity. 

“Why aren’t you training?”

Cara shrugs, peeling her orange with nimble fingers.

“I’m not as good as Harry - I do it for the exercise. Harry is actually really competitive, though he’d die a thousand deaths before he’d admit it.”

Louis smirks at the idea, because he can well imagine that. His tray is full of unappetising looking food, and Louis pokes vaguely at it, remembering that he had a question that he wanted answering.

“Cara - I know you must be sick of talking about it, but… when all the drama was happening. How awful was Liam? Because he still thinks that Harry is trying to take revenge, somehow, and, I guess… it doesn’t add up in my head, but the math must be making sense to Liam, some how.”

Cara clears her throat, sounding awkward, and looks away, across the canteen which is still conspicuous with Liam’s absence, and Louis has never known Liam to hide away like this before.

“He was… yeah, he was pretty awful, Haz. I mean, Harry probably isn’t wanting to tell you, because he probably wants forget about the whole thing, but… it wasn’t your brother’s finest hour. He was - I mean, some of the older guys in the football team were encouraging him, because they actually were a nasty pack of dicks, but Liam…”

Cara sighs, and looks at Louis.

“He yelled things across the training pitch, which all the track team  _ loved _ of course, and Sarah was a complete moron and escalated the insults, every time, but yeah. He yelled things, and he spread rumors, and he made sure that everyone knew that Harry, who was still just this little freshman, was going out with a senior for deeply perverted reasons, and that Harry had lied about his sexuality to get Sarah’s attention, and… um. It wasn’t great. The Principal called him into his office, and told him that the bullying campaign had to stop, and it was bordering on homophobic. Or at least, that’s what the rumors said, and suddenly the entire school was interrogating Liam about whether he was actually homophobic, which must have, well, knowing what I now know about his little brother…” 

At this point Cara gestures at Louis, as though Louis might have forgotten that he was the little brother in question, before continuing,  “…that can’t have put him in a great mood. It’s a good thing that the school year ended when it did, because the entire place felt like it was going to blow, for a while.”

Louis doesn’t know what to say, to all that. Because part of him wants to leap to Liam’s defense, because Liam is  _ obviously  _ not homophobic, but on the other hand, if other members of the football team were goading Liam, then Louis can’t imagine Liam ever backing down without a fight.

Cara sees the worry on his face, and leans over, looking concerned.

“Hey. It was a long time ago - everyone has all done a lot of growing up, since then. Eat your lunch and go watch Harry train; he was saying that he thinks he performs better when you are watching, which is completely out of character and exactly the sort of sappy nonsense that you seem to inspire from him.”

…

Louis tries to put it out of his mind, for the rest of the afternoon, and even manages to forget it, for most of the evening, in the time that he spends with Harry. When they go to buy muffins and drive up to the lookout point, it is almost with a sense of tradition, and Harry presses coffee flavored kisses to Louis' mouth and neck as Louis looks skywards and becomes dizzy, with how fast everything has moved.

“Thank you.”

Louis registers that Harry is talking to him, and wraps his arm around his shoulders. 

“You are completely welcome. What for?”

Harry snorts, and slaps him on the thigh, laughing.

“Idiot. For making these weeks so easy. Because I thought it would be terrible, coming out at school again, but it has hardly been anything. I wish I’d had the guts to do it earlier.”

Louis grunts, and squeezes at Harry’s shoulder, thinking to himself that it has only been easy because Liam decided to not get involved, and it wasn’t really anything to do with Louis.

There’s an ache in his chest, as he recalls two weeks of silences at home, and Liam taking his dinner up to his room every evening, leaving the hollow lie of ‘I’m studying’ ringing in Louis' ears.

Louis hates it, he realizes abruptly. He misses the time when he wasn’t hiding something from Liam, or sneaking around, or pissing Liam off, in some way.

He can’t very well say all of that to Harry though. Not when Harry is just talking about how happy he is.

So he presses a kiss to Harry’s temple, and tries to hum contentedly. The sun is setting, and the view is good.

And Louis is happy.

All ninety percent of him.

“You’re sad.”

Something in Louis' chest pops, and he deflates, slumping further into the hood of Harry’s car.

“Yeah…turns out that I’m not great at handling Liam not talking to me. And I’m not great at convincing Liam to stop being pissed off at the whole world.”

Harry wraps his arms around Louis, and kisses him a couple of times on the temple, until Louis sighs and lets himself turn into Harry, pressing his face into Harry’s neck and letting himself feel small, for once.

“You haven’t really spoken to him at all though, have you? Liam’s ignoring me at school, ignoring you at school and home… he’s maybe waiting for you to go to him.”

Louis shrugs, and then pulls away, looking at Harry.

“Why are you being reasonable about Liam? He was awful to you, Cara told me about it-”

Harry shuts him up by kissing him.

“Yeah, he was pretty awful. But I’d just stolen his girlfriend, through devious tactics, according to his side of the story. And had used a casual lie about sexuality to get attention, before redacting when I’d gotten what I’d wanted. I’d have been pissed too. But it was a long time ago. And I thought he’d kick off again, this time around, but he hasn’t, and… I guess I’m grateful to him for that. Relieved, at least. So I’m judging Liam on current Liam, not past Liam.”

Louis blinks a couple of times at Harry, realizing that he is beautiful, and lovely, and if Louis wasn’t cautious and realistic about whether a person as young as he is can understand what it means to be in love, Louis would say that he is in love. He’s certainly the most in love that he has ever been in his life so far.

“I’ll talk to him over the weekend.”

Harry kisses him again, with a small smile playing around his lips, as though he had just read all of Louis' emotions in his eyes.

“Cool.”

…

Liam is coming to the realization that he is going to have to make some choices about his future, in the next few days.

He’s been offered a scholarship to a college further north, on the merits of the reference from Coach Winters. But it has been sitting on his desk for the last five days, because he hasn’t had the mental space to be able to consider it.

It’s been a rough couple of weeks. 

Liam doesn’t do well at being thought of as wrong, or mistaken. And now that it becomes clear that both Niall  _ and _ Louis think that he is completely wrong, and did a whole lot of fucking up, back in the day, well, it hurts. 

He should just accept the position of being wrong. Let everything move on. Allow Louis to make his own mistakes.

(It’s a character flaw, being right all the time. He’s working on it.)

Liam is of the opinion that everyone should be pretty damn impressed with him for managing to bite his lip as much as he has, at school. Liam has coolly ignored everything, even when the other footballers in his year kept asking him questions about Louis' new relationship with Harry. Liam had told them all to fuck off, and that had been that.

His other tactic has been to spend a hell of a lot of time in various classrooms, catching up up on his neglected studies. Liam’s never been so on top of his work. Some of his teachers must think he’s found God, or something.

The worry is… no, wait, worry is the wrong word. Of course Liam doesn’t  _ want  _ Louis to have his heart broken by Harry. But the… the  _ consequence _ of Harry being genuine, and not playing a big game, is that Liam looks pretty damn stupid, and probably has his brother turned against him, for the rest of time.

Because Liam isn’t stupid. He knows that he was an unbearable little shit towards Harry. Louis must know all about it, by now.

The thought makes him feel hot, and embarrassed, and sick to his stomach, so Liam shoves it down.

It’s a sunny day, early on Saturday morning. Maybe he’ll go for a drive. Thoughts about his future, and his present, can wait.

He stands up, tugging on his sneakers and grabbing a sweater from the back of his chair. Liam doesn’t check his reflection, because a) he always looks great, and b) no one is going to see him.

When he opens his bedroom door, he nearly walks right into Louis, who is stood in front of him, hand raised as if he was just about to knock.

“Whoa… what? Yes?”

Louis lowers his hand, even as Liam mentally berates himself for sounding so sharp, but Louis had startled him.

“Um. Hello.”

After a moment, when nothing more seems to be coming, Liam looks past Louis, down the corridor.

“I’m just going out, actually Louis…”

Louis nods, and rocks on his heels.

“Okay… um, I’m just going to say this, and shoot me down if you want, but do you want to take me with you? Kidnap me and take me to the beach again?”

Liam stares down at him, whilst Louis looks at him with his little forehead creased into an expression of extreme determination, as if he is in the middle of the serious business of negotiating global peace.

Liam’s other character flaw is that he finds it impossible to have anything other than the world’s largest soft spot for Louis.

He tries, though.

“Oh… kay. But don’t think I am bringing Styles along on this day trip because that is a line too far.”

Louis rolls his eyes at Liam, and then steps to one side, allowing Liam out of his room.

“No, just you and me. I wanted to talk to you.”

Liam bites his lip, frowning at the suggestion.

“About what?”

“Just stuff. You know. Stupid stuff. I missed you.”

God. Liam is  _ not  _ going to cry, even as his chest feels like it is going to cave in.

He decides that Louis probably could negotiate world peace, if he put his mind to it.

…

The beach is still there, but because it is a weekend, and sunny, it is pretty heavily occupied with families. Louis gestures at Liam, and points further up the shore, to the rocks where they used to climb.

There’s a shelf of rock, that him and Louis used to spend whole afternoons on, because it had soft vegetation to sit upon, and was a good lookout spot. Unfortunately, it is about ten feet of scramble upwards.

“Oof, fucking hell- why are we doing this?”

Louis laughs from above him, and reaches a hand down, helping Liam up over the final lip of rock. Liam grunts out a  _ thanks _ , and then sits down next to him, swearing again when a jag of rock digs into him, in an unfortunate place. Louis laughs again, and then cups his chin in his hands, staring out over the view.

“I don’t know… I didn’t really want to go to the beach either. I just thought it was nicely symbolic, somehow.”

Liam laughs at him, and then acts on impulse, wrapping an arm around his neck and pulling him close to him, tucking Louis' head underneath his chin. Louis gasps in surprise, and then tries to release himself, but Liam’s not letting him go anywhere.

“Don’t struggle Louis- it’ll only prolong the agony.”

“Ugh… Liam, I hate you.”

Liam grins at nothing.

“Good. That’s a healthy relationship dynamic, between older and younger siblings.”

Louis stops struggling after a moment, and relaxes into Liam’s side.

“I don’t, you know. Not really. Not ever.”

Liam nods, fighting against a sudden lump in his throat, and presses a kiss down onto the top of Louis' head.

“Good. Me neither.”

Louis mumbles out a incomprehensible word in response, and then sighs. A gentle hand comes wrapping around Liam’s side, and he gets half a hug, squeezed adamantly.

“We need to talk about Harry, I think. ‘Cause I’m not accepting the current state of affairs.”

Liam nods again, because he agrees. 

“Okay. But first I have to hold you in this headlock for half an hour while you tell me I’m great - sorry. I don’t make the rules.”

“Liam, if you hold me here for half an hour I’m going to pass out due to inhaling the stench from your armpits.”

“You’ll be grateful for that stench, Louis - that’s the smell of victory. And not washing in five days; I’ve been busy.”

“Liam!”

Liam laughs. Because if he has to do some owning up to mistakes, to get  _ this _ back, then why not?

…


	25. Part Twenty Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone. 
> 
> This is the penultimate part - the final part will be posted on Wednesday. 
> 
> This is an AU story- everything is a lie. 
> 
> Thank you for being lovely.
> 
> …

**Chapter Twenty Five**

The half hour headlock turns into Louis and Liam spending two hours of sitting up on the ledge, staring out into the ocean, and watching the other beach users do beach things.

They don’t talk about Harry, or recent events, in an unspoken agreement, but instead the conversation meanders through well worn conversational favorites, which fit like a perfect sweater. They laugh about that time when their cousin fell out of a row boat, and the occasion when their mom accidentally used salt instead of sugar and nearly poisoned an entire bake sale. Liam’s whole body shakes when he laughs, but Louis' favorite is the noise that Liam makes when he is trying not to laugh because  he hasn’t reached the punchline, because it is a ridiculous noise and will have Louis laughing even before the joke has been told.

The sun is high in the sky when Liam insists that they get down from the rocky outcrop, because he’s too old to be ‘crouching up here like some overgrown albatross’. So they scramble down, with Louis jumping the final few feet and Liam whimpering about his joints.

“Come paddling with me?”

Liam snorts, and then smiles at him, flipping off his sneakers with quick kicks and darting to pick them up.

“Last one in is a loser and will be the lesser Tomlinson for the rest of time!”

“Hey!”

Liam wins the race by about fifty yards, because Louis has done up his laces and therefore can’t just kick them off, and he likes these sneakers and isn’t about to just plunge into the water still wearing them. Liam splashes a handful of sea water towards him as a greeting, and Louis is flipping him off, even as he splutters.

“You’re never going to let me win at anything, are you?”

Liam scrunches up his face, and looks at Louis, shading his eyes from the sunlight.

“Only the things that don’t matter Lou. Those I will happily dominate until the end of time.”

Louis sighs at him, and flicks droplets of water at Liam, from his fingertips.

“I let you win.”

“Whatever.”

The water is unseasonably warm, and they walk for a long stretch, with Louis picking up interesting seashells and presenting them to Liam, and Liam inspecting them with a cursory glance, and then flipping them out towards the sea.  

“I read somewhere that seashells are made out of the shit from the sea creature that lives in it.”

Louis pauses, halfway bent over to collect another one, and then straightens up, frowning.

“I’m pretty sure that you’ve just made up that fact.”

Liam grins, shrugging.

“Sounds like it could be true though, right? I figure it must be something like that. Scientists probably give it a fancier name than ‘shit’, though.”

Louis hums in agreement, wondering if scientists know that Liam is one step ahead of them.

“You’re a really bad liar, Liam.”

Louis doesn’t particularly mean anything deeper by it, but from the way Liam frowns, and looks away after a second, towards the horizon, he’s certainly taken it that way.

“I never lied at any point Lou, about any of this…”

Louis nods, and reaches a hand out towards Liam, trying to reassure him.

“I know Li, I know… I don’t think either of you have been lying. Just, I don’t know… misreading the situation massively. With almost comedic levels of poor responses.”

Liam grunts, and then looks like he makes a significant effort, folding his arms across his chest and shifting from one foot to another.

“So… I guess Harry hates me then.”

“Um,” Louis replies, choosing his words carefully. “He… well, he’s not got you on his Christmas card list, no. But Harry thought that you’d make a huge deal, at school this time around. And I told him that you wouldn’t. And then, when you didn’t… I think that he is open to the possibility that you aren’t a complete monster.”

Liam nods a few times, and then clears his throat.

“So… I was a complete dick to him. You probably already know that. But this is me telling you the full truth. Complete disclosure.”

Louis shrugs, because he is getting used to the idea that maybe his brother wasn’t as perfect as Louis always thought he was, when Liam was in high school, and Louis was still in middle school.

“You want to go get an icecream?”

…

Louis always gets the same flavor ice cream. Mint choc chip. He’s predictable. Sometimes Liam worries that Louis is missing out on a whole world of flavors, but he can hardly force rum and raisin flavor down his throat.

Louis laughs at him, as Liam approaches the bench they have occupied, with an ice cream cone in both hands, and Liam tries to glare, looking as intimidating as a person holding two ice cream cones can.

“What?”

“You look so concerned.”

Liam snorts, and does her best to clear away her frown.

“Just worried about the poor ice cream choices that you continue to make. But I will let you make your own mistakes” he says generously, handing over the offending cone.

Louis takes it solemnly, as though a significant decision has been made, and shuffles up closer to Liam, resting his head on Liam’s shoulder. Liam sighs.

“So, it pains me to say this, but I am coming to the conclusion that I might have made a significant miscalculation. Back in the day. And more recently. A number of significant miscalculations.”

Louis mumbles from beneath him “sorry Liam, I should have told you earlier-” and Liam shakes his head, correcting Louis.

“No,  _ Harry _ should have told  _ you _ earlier. That way we could have done all the arguing and clearing off air necessary, and everything would now be a memory.”

Louis nods after a moment, and then sighs.

“Yeah, that would have made things easier. Me and Harry have already talked about that. But… he’s not doing this to try and hurt me to get at you. You don’t know him Li, he’d never-”

Liam cuts him off by clamping a casual hand over Louis' mouth.

“Mmmpft!”

“I don’t know him very well; you’re right. The first time he even blipped across my radar was when Sarah was suddenly  _ obsessed _ with the gangly ‘bisexual’ freshman. I was pissed. And being rational isn’t my strong suit to start with. And then when we got back to school Harry backtracked faster than I thought it was even possible for someone to  _ forward _ track, and I guess I lost my mind, for an unpleasant month. Turns out I can turn my hand to being a complete dick  _ really _ easily. I’m not proud.”

Louis removes Liam’s hand after a moment, and looks up at him.

“You were young.”

I was the same age as you, Lou. I don’t see you committing any hate crimes. Just- stop giving me excuses. I was a moron. So was he. Everyone was a moron.”

Louis wiggles slightly, and takes a bite out of his ice cream- another life choice that Liam seems to be incapable of correcting.

“I’ve heard a fair bit about all the shitty things you did; from multiple sources, not just Harry. Want to tell me about the shit thrown your way? Just to even the balance?”

Liam presses a hand to his forehead, and rubs, hard. 

“God, you are far too nice and forgiving…Harry didn’t do that much, all told, although the rest of the track team had a lot to say, about my size and my character and my looks. I’m not going over it again, because it was all moronic, because I’m fucking rad. Harry did yell at me that he was ‘fucking  _ normal _ ’, one time when I was suggesting that being bi didn’t disappear overnight. And then the next day I was accused of being homophobic by Principle Morely. That pissed me off, because…”

Liam runs out of words, at this point, because his throat is closing up, and talking about all of this is still hard. He squeezes at Louis' shoulders, and hopes that Louis understands. Louis is silent, and then takes another bite of his ice cream.

“I know you aren’t homophobic, that’s ridiculous. And, I guess, coming out is hard for people… it makes us say things that we don’t mean-”

Liam snorts, and presses a kiss to his head.

“ _ God _ , just accept that Harry is a bit of an idiot too. Or was. He clearly isn’t now, cause look at who he is choosing to spend his time with…”

Louis sits up, and looks at Liam, very serious apart from the ice cream at the side of her mouth.

“You don’t still think that Harry is some kind of super villain, plotting to break my heart, do you? Because…”

Liam rolls his eyes, looking away.

“Well, duh, no, not really. That idea didn’t stand up for long once my rationality caught up with my rage. Besides, I’ve seen how he looks at you, unfortunately. Makes me want to puke. No, now I’m mainly just pissed off that you lied to me for so long. And that’s I’m being proven wrong, which I  _ always  _ hate.”

Louis says nothing for a long moment, and then abruptly hugs him, and if Louis gets ice cream on Liam’s top then there will be unparalleled levels of trouble.

“Hey, ugh, get off me. This doesn’t mean he is on my Christmas card list, either. I still don’t  _ like  _ him.”

“Oh, you will. You don’t know him, yet. He’s funny, and kind, and generous, and I’m pretty sure he’d do anything for anybody because he cares so much, and-”

“Okay, okay, christ. You can’t talk me into liking him. He’ll just have to demonstrate likeability, over a period of time. We’ll see how it goes.”

Louis nods a few times, and then leans away from him.

“Okay, but you have to try too. I want you to both like  _ each other _ .

“Are you saying I’m not naturally charming? Rude.”

Louis laughs at him, and then looks out over the view, grinning so wide that Liam can’t help but smile in response.

“Am I still allowed to hold the position that if he hurts you in  _ anyway  _ then he won’t know what hit him?”

Louis shrugs, and then smirks at him.

“Sure Li - I think that is just standard big brother position.”

Sounds good. Liam pokes at Louis' side, suddenly determined to try and get Louis to drop his half eaten ice cream.

“Shut up Mini Tommo.”

“ _ Liam _ \- get off!”

…

It’s late on Saturday afternoon, and Harry is outside, helping his mom in the front yard, when Louis suddenly appears, looking like he’s caught the sun, and barrels straight into him, wrapping his arms tight around Harry like he’d imagine a koala would do.

“Hi!”

“Oh,  _ shit _ , hi! Um. You scared me. Everything okay?”

Harry tries to subtly indicate with his elbows that his mom is just over in the corner, and has now stood up, and is conducting the world’s most blatant eavesdropping that Harry has ever seen. Louis turns, and waves cheerily at her, before turning back to Harry.

“I’ve eaten nothing but ice cream for the whole day, and I think me and Liam might have gotten sunstroke, but yes! Everything is okay! Or it will be okay - I’m working on it. But fixability has been achieved- I talked to Liam, and he talked to me, and everything will be fine, with a bit of time. Liam is open-minded about the idea of not hating you forever!”

The final sentence is said with a flourish, and Harry snorts with laughter at him, because the sentence sounds like nothing worth celebrating, but Louis' excitement is catching, anyway.

“Louis… you’re covered in sand.”

Louis gives him look like  _ Harry  _ is the crazy one, and then says,

“Yeah, duh, we went to the beach. And we talked, and then Liam chased me around for a bit, and I might have fallen over, and then I asked Liam to stop here, before we went home - look, he’s just there, in his car.”

Harry looks up, surprised, and sure enough, there’s Liam, engine idling, looking like he’s just discovered that he is related to a moron. Louis reaches around to Harry’s side, and takes Harry’s unresisting hand, waggling it back and forth in a wave. Harry’s hand flops about, and Liam looks away, and if Harry didn’t know better, he’d say that Liam is trying not to laugh.

Louis drops Harry’s wrist, and turns back to him.

“See! Contact achieved. So now you can work on figuring out how to like Liam, and Liam can work on figuring out how to like you, and by winter you’ll be sending each other Christmas cards.”

Maybe Louis has gotten sunstroke. Harry places his hand on Louis' forehead, concerned, as his mom clears her throat.

“Harry - does Louis want to stay for dinner?”

Louis looks up at Harry, eyes wide, and Harry tilts his head to one side, smiling.

“Will Liam let you? Or will he send a SWAT team into my house to come get you?”

Louis grins, and then smiles at Harry’s mom.

“Sure! Thank you, I’d like that - Harry is always saying what a great cook you are. I’ll just go a tell Li….”

With that, Louis dashes back over to his elder brother’s car, who rolls down the window so they can talk. Harry glances at his mom, who is approaching with a smile on her face.

“For the record, I am never saying what a great cook you are - some of your dishes should be donated to science for research.” 

His mom laughs at him.

“Oh I know - still, it’s nice to know your boyfriend has manners.”

Fucking  _ hell _ , Harry thinks, but from the look on his mom’s face he knows that there is no fighting it.

“Whatever. Shut up.”

…   

Niall is alerted to the change of stance in Liam’s attitude, first thing on Monday morning.

“Hello.”

Niall nearly drops his books, because Liam has been distant for over two weeks now, and therefore his sudden appearance at Niall’s elbow is startling, to say the least.

“Uh- hi. How are you?”

Liam nods, waving away all questions about his health.

“Whatever. Ni- you think I’ve been an idiot, don’t you?”

Niall looks around for support, but there is none.

“Um, yeah. Actually. Sorry.”

Liam rolls his eyes, and then leans on the lockers next to Niall, glaring at a couple of random students walking past them.

“Well, in the future, for the love of god,  _ tell me _ I’m being an idiot, will you?” 

Niall smirks at him, and then says “Pretty sure I did,  _ idiot _ , you just weren’t in a listening kind of mood.”

“Whatever.” Liam shrugs a couple of times, inspecting his nails. “Next time make me listen.”

“Oh sure, cause that’s easy…”

Liam flips him off good humouredly, and then falls into step with Niall, as he heads to his first class.

“What the  _ fuck _ ever. Sorry. Anyway, the new position is; we don’t think Harry is a crazy scheming straight person.”

“You don’t think that- I’ve not thought that for nearly two years.”

They round a corner, as Liam lets out an exasperated sigh.

“Okay  _ fine _ , I don’t think that. But anyway, we still don’t like him.”

“We don’t?”

Liam snorts, and flips him off again, as Niall bites the inside of his cheek, trying to not look as if he is enjoying things too much.

“No. Well, I don’t, you can think what you want, you traitorous dick.”

It’s said with a grin, and Niall rolls his eyes, smirking back.

“Cool. So you don’t like him because…”

“I just don’t. Well. I have no feelings towards him. He needs to make me like him... what?  Don’t look at me like that?  Why do I have to do all the work?”

Liam looks like he is trying  _ really hard _ to be outraged, and Niall can’t help but think that things are nearly there, now.


	26. Part Twenty Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone.
> 
> This is the final part. 
> 
> This has been an AU story which was initially triggered by my mother thinking that Louis and Liam were related. And things escalated from there.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has read and left me feedback; whether that is a kudos, bookmark, or comment.
> 
> Thanks to Louis and Harry for letting weirdos like us write lengthy stories about them.
> 
> It’s been a pleasure guys.
> 
> …

It’s another weird couple of weeks. But it’s better, than the last weird couple of weeks that Harry had.

For one thing, Louis is happier. Apparently Liam is now talking to him again, at home, and has moved from ignoring Louis' new relationship, to teasing him mercilessly about it, over the dinner table. 

Louis warns him, one time when they are up in Harry’s bedroom lying on his bed and are  _ actually _ working on their respective assignments for once, that at some point Harry will have to come to his house for dinner, because Liam’s antics have made their parents curious.

Harry makes a face.

“Curious in what way? He’s not told them all about-”

Louis shakes his head quickly.

“No, god no. Liam doesn’t really do much, I guess, he just kind of says to me things like, um, ‘did you and Harry talk about anything interesting today’, when we are all eating, and then when I talk about you he will pretend to barf everywhere.”

Harry snorts, and then rolls onto his back, clicking his pen a couple of times.

“So what you are saying is that  _ you  _ have made them curious. Maybe stop talking about me so much?”

Louis shrugs a couple of times, and then leans over him, grinning down easily.

“Can you blame me? Stop being so cute.”

Harry wrinkles his nose, and then smiles, as Louis looks at his lips.

“No.”

Louis' kisses seem to taste sweeter, ever since him and Liam talked. Harry wonders if the happiness transmits, somehow.

…

Harry and Cara seem to merge into Louis' friendship group, until Harry spends more lunchtimes than not, sitting across from Cara, watching Zayn and Nick bicker about something, while James plays the peace keeper, and Louis laughs along next to him. Sometimes there is a tall boy called James there, who doesn’t seem to talk much in front of Eleanor, but is far more chatty when Eleanor isn’t there, Harry notices.

He smiles across at her, the third time he joins them for lunch, and nods at Louis.

“Well done you two. Sorry for putting my foot in it by the way - I think I probably set Liam on your case.”

Nick clears his throat, waving James’ claim away.

“Umm, no, that was definitely me, James, you can’t steal all my glory.”

Louis laughs at both of them, and Harry rolls his eyes and says “No, it was definitely Liam walking in on me and Louis kissing in the kitchen. That was it. Louis has no sense of timing.”

Louis gasps, and then points at Harry.

“Pretty sure that it was  _ you _ who initiated that, Harry.”

Before Harry can deny all knowledge of such unfounded claims, Liam appears behind them, with Niall at his elbow. The laugh dies in Louis' throat, and he grins nervously.

“Oh hi Li. Ni.”

Niall waves a hello, and Liam nods once in greeting.

“Hi, yes, hello all, I was just wanting to check - Nick, are you still free to play this weekend? We’ve had someone drop out.”

Nick nods a couple of times, and then grins evilly.

“Yeah, sure… Liam do you know everyone here? This is Zayn, and this is James, and this is Louis, and this is-”

Liam cuts him off, with a tight smile and a flip of his middle finger.

“Yes, yes, hello Harry, okay good. Louis, do you need a ride tonight, or are you going out with Harry? Cause I know the track team have practice tonight.”

Harry clears his throat, deciding to put some work in as well.

“We were going to go watch a movie after school, actually; unless you need him for brother stuff.”

Liam shrugs, and then nods, looking at Harry with a face which seems to contain nothing but exaggerated calmness.

“No; I just wanted to check what my schedule was. Okay, well, have a good afternoon everyone; Nick, we’ll see you later.”

After they’ve gone, Nick makes a big thing about checking whether everyone still has all their limbs attached, as Harry squeezes Louis' hand under the table, trying to hide how fast his heart is beating. He leans forward, rolling his eyes at Nick and cutting him off.

“Nick, leave it; it’s no big deal.”

Shrugging, and smiling, Nick holds up his hands, and returns to his lunch, moving the conversation on, and taking the attention with him. Louis looks at Harry, with wide eyes, and then presses a kiss to his cheek.

“I think I love you, you know.”

Harry bites back a laugh, even as he blushes.

“God, don’t tell me in the  _ canteen _ , you idiot.”

…

It goes well, for another few weeks.

No big gains are made, and Harry doesn’t really know if he is in  _ that much _ of a rush to be friends with Liam, but there is a steady, inching kind of progress. A war of attrition, but maybe this time Harry thinks that both sides are fighting for the same goal.

It’s small things.

The first time Harry musters the courage to knock on Louis' door, rather than just waiting in his car and messaging him, Liam opens the door, because  _ of course  _ Liam opens the door.

Harry hesitates, for a moment, and then clears his throat.

“Hi. Um. Is Louis there?”

Liam stares blankly at him for a moment, as Harry tries not to have war flashbacks, but then smiles, or at least does something with his face that looks like it is an attempt at a smile.

“Yes. He is upstairs. Does he know you are coming, or-”

Harry nods hastily, glancing up at the window that he knows is Louis'.

“Yeah, I just thought I’d… come knock.”

“Okay.” Liam nods a couple of times, and then leans away slightly, increasing the volume of his voice tenfold with apparently no effort whatsoever.

“Louis! Harry is here!” There’s a yelp, and a thud from upstairs, as though Louis has just fallen off his bed, and Liam looks back at Harry, clearing his throat.

“So… how’s track?”

Harry nods, trying to not look as if he is having an out of body experience.

“It’s good. Lots of running, you know.”

Liam nods as if he does know, as Harry closes his eyes for a second, trying to think of a follow up question.

“How’s… school?”

Liam nods a few times, as if this is an interesting topic for conversation.

“Yeah, still schooling. Still fighting the man.”

Louis comes thundering down the stairs at this moment, and Harry can’t help but breathe a sigh of relief, because having to come up with another question may well have exhausted Harry’s conversational skills for the next three years. Liam looks like he feels the same.

“Okay, good, well, see you later Lou”, and then Harry can turn away, offering a quick wave of pointlessness to Liam.

Louis squeezes at his hand, and asks a quick question, as they get into the car.

“That okay?”

Harry breathes out, and then nods, because it had been okay.

“Yeah.”

… 

In school Liam still doesn’t really speak to him, and Harry doesn’t really speak to Liam. But Niall has started saying hi to him, in the corridors, which Harry always replies to, in turn. And because Liam is usually standing next to Niall, it is almost like Harry is saying hi to Liam.

Liam looks back, each time. And nods.

…

When Louis comes to meet Harry, by his locker at the end of the day, now they can hold hands, and sometimes, if the corridor is quiet, Louis will kiss him, once or twice, in a message that seems to say  _ I can’t believe that we can do this now _ .

Harry can’t believe it either. It’s a good feeling.

One time, Louis kisses him for a second too long, or the fates align in the way that fate tends to do, when it is bored, and Liam rounds the corner, before making a noise of horror.

“Oh  _ god _ Louis- less of the cute gay routine or I will projectile vomit so hard that the rebound might send me into orbit.”

Louis rolls his eyes, and reaches around to flip Liam off, but Liam is already at his side, and is counter flipping Louis off with both hands, smirking like a child. He presses his hands up to Louis' cheeks and just pats them there repeatedly, to make sure Louis absorbs the message. Harry snorts at the sight, and then has to look away, because he isn’t sure that him and Liam are at  _ laughing at each others jokes  _ level yet.

Harry is pretty sure that Liam glances once at him, before focusing on Louis, grinning.

“Never forget who is in charge of this dynamic, Louis, okay? You had a good day? Asides from kissing in the corridors, which is a breach of all the school rules I’m sure, and therefore most unlike you, you perfect specimen.”

Louis shrugs, smiling at his older brother as he finally knocks his hands away.

“Yeah, good - you?”

“No; terrible - double Chemistry with that asthmatic fart Mitchell, who seems to be conducting a covert experiment on how many students he can get to top themselves mid-lesson.”

Louis makes a noise of disapproval at Liam’s complaints, whilst Harry bites down on another laugh, because yes, his lessons really are that bad. Liam looks at him again, smile playing around his lips.

“See Louis - your response is ridiculous, and Harry’s response is correct. Plus it gives me the majority vote. Good. I like that. Carry on with your days.”

“Liam, you can’t just bad mouth the teaching staff like that; Mr Mitchell works hard to make sure-”

Harry rolls his eyes, and claps a hand over Louis' mouth.

“Oh  _ come on _ Louis; the man is hopeless. I understand less when I leave his room than when I go in.”

Liam points a finger under Louis' nose, grinning. He then draws a wide circle around himself.

“Sorry Louis, can’t stay, I’m too busy occupying all of this moral high ground… later, losers.”

Liam makes an obscene gesture at both of them, as he leaves, and Harry can’t help but smile, at the sight of it.

Louis grumbles, next to him.

“I’m not sure I’m going to enjoy it all that much, if you and Liam actually become friends…”

…

The next time Liam passes Harry in the corridor, he smiles.

Harry smiles back.

…

The real tipping point, Harry supposes, is when him and Liam both manage to get a detention for sticking up for equality in the corridors of the high school.

Because Mr Mitchell, as well as thinking that education is something which happens to other people, also thinks that boys shouldn’t hold hands with other boys in the canteen queue.

“Sorry Mr Mitchell.”

Harry looks over at Louis, astonished, and then frowns up at Mr Mitchell, who is balding and seems to be the sort of teacher who only picks fights with students he thinks won’t make a scene.

“No, what- why can’t we hold hands? That’s stupid.”

Mr Mitchell frowns at him, and then clears his throat, loftily.

“It is inappropriate, and the way that you just spoke to me is inappropriate. I’ve just given you an instruction; you’d do well to follow it.”

Harry squints at him, because that isn’t an explanation _at all_ , and then gestures at some of the other couples that she can see eating in the canteen; including one where a girl is _sitting_ _on the lap_ of her boy, and his hand is in a borderline indecent spot.

“Why aren’t you telling them to separate themselves? There’s practically copulation happening behind you, but me and Louis holding hands is inappropriate?”

“Harry, just leave it…”

“No I will not, not until he’s explained his double standards to me.”

Mr Mitchell adjusts his glasses on his nose, and Harry can feel himself blushing because people are looking, but he has not done all the hard work of coming out to be denied from the simple,  _ completely appropriate _ , pleasure of holding hands.

“It is simply a matter of what is acceptable in school, and what is not. I am not discussing this any further with you, if you are going to be overly-emotional about it…”

Harry opens his mouth to say something back, probably in a  _ very  _ overly emotional manner, but then Liam appears next to him.

“Um,  _ excuse you _ , by my reckoning if Harry and Louis want to hold hands then they are allowed to. Go find some dry humping to break up, if you are suddenly in the mood for the inappropriate, Mitchell.”

Mr Mitchell’s neck is going red, but backing down feels completely stupid, now that Liam’s here.

“This is none of your business, and with your record you’d do well to stay out of it.”

Liam holds a corrective finger up in the air.

“Um, no, members of staff discriminating against my little brother is one hundred percent my business, and seeing as Louis will never correct a teacher when they are being an ass, that is my role. And Harry’s too, apparently.”

Harry nods a couple of times, and mumbles  _ yeah _ . Liam looks approvingly at him, and then frowns at Mr Mitchell.

“So, in the spirit of compromise, if you just apologize to Harry and Louis here, then I won’t tell the whole school about what a judgemental, homophobic, belittling, ass you are.”

…

They get three after school detentions in a row, and have to write a letter of apology to Mr Mitchell.

Liam outright refuses for the first and second detention. But on the third, Harry, who is pretty good at the written word, when it comes down to it, suggests that they instead write a hyper-sarcastic, over the top, poetic letter instead.

Liam agrees.

Writing it turns out to be pretty fun.

“So, do you think we can use Shakespearian style bullshit, or would that be going too far, do you think?”

Harry shrugs, smirking at the way that Liam is leaning back in his chair, trying to balance his pencil on the end of his nose.

“I don’t see why not. We might get extra credit for it.”

Liam smiles, and then spreads his arms wide, eyes fully crossed as he focuses on the wobbling pencil.

“Forsooth, Squire Mitchell, tis the word on the street, that thou art a turd.”

Harry can’t help it, and erupts in giggles, and Liam joins in after a bit, cackling loudly.

…

After another month, Harry goes around for dinner at Louis and Liam’s house, in his first official, ‘meet the parents’, outing.

Liam opens the door, and grins.

“Styles. Looking cute. You okay?”

Harry smiles, glancing down at his feet and shrugging.

“Bit nervous.”

Liam rolls his eyes, and then reaches out for his hand, tugging him inside. 

“Come on, you’ll be fine. I’ll help. I’ll laugh at your jokes, even if they aren’t funny. Louis would kill for that sort of support, so appreciate it.”

Harry grins, feeling indescribably lucky, all of a sudden.

“Oh, I do.”

Liam looks him up and down, and then nods, approvingly.

“Good. You’ve earnt it.”

…

While watching Louis and Harry over the dinner table, and the way that they smile at each other, and cutely try and be on best behavior, in front of Liam’s parents, Liam comes to a ground-breaking conclusion.

Namely, that being wrong isn’t  _ that  _ bad.

Sometimes.

He sure as hell won’t be making a habit of it, though.

…

It’s the last track meet of the year. The whole school have been given the afternoon off to show their support, probably because it is sunny and the teachers have had enough too. Louis rolls up his sleeves, grateful for the break and the sunshine and a whole lot of things, really.

Liam has just had his last football game, and him and Niall take elaborate bows, as the school applauds. Liam waves up at Louis, and then comes jogging up to meet him, on the bleachers. He exchanges high fives with Zayn, Eleanor and James, before sitting next to Louis, and squeezing his knee joint hard, making him yelp.

“Oh Louis- who is going to be your inspiration once I’ve left next year?”

“Ow! Jeez Li, I don’t know, maybe someone who isn’t into physical abuse…”

Liam laughs at him, and looks like he is going to say something else, but then gets distracted, by Harry calling up to him and Louis.

“Hey, Tommos- catch!”

Liam manages to snatch his orange out of the air, but Louis fumbles his, dropping it into the lap of Zayn, who passes it back to him, with a snort. Liam waves the orange at Harry, who stands there in his running kit a few rows down, ready to go compete.

“What the eff, Harry?”

Harry shrugs, and gestures at Louis.

“Louis gets it - it’s symbolic.”

Liam rolls his eyes, and laughs.

“Cryptic -  _ cute _ . Go do the running thing Harry; stop throwing fruit.”

Harry waves at them both, before turning away, jogging down the bleacher steps. Louis calls after him.

“Good luck!”

Liam nods in agreement, and then yells down “I hope you break  _ both  _ your legs, Styles!”

Harry turns, and flips Liam off, laughing, in a way that has Louis remembering what felt like a start, back then.

It’s been a weird year.

Louis decides that he’ll take it.

…

The End.

**Author's Note:**

> Excited?


End file.
